


Like Real People Do

by haroldlevinson



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Slow Romance, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haroldlevinson/pseuds/haroldlevinson
Summary: Another tragedy strikes Broadchurch shortly after the Winterman case that involves DI Hardy and DS Miller directly. As they try to overcome it while managing their families, they find their feelings towards one another growing into something more intimate than work partners.A slow burn romance story of how they might possibly get together, and work together with a little added drama in to act as a catalyst.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been ages since Broadchurch aired, but I am not over it. I wish these two had more of a story together. Hence this fic. If you have the time to comment or send kudos, I'd greatly appreciate it! Also, please let me know your thoughts. This is the first time I've written anything inherently British and modern.

“He is not what men are.”

The words came to her softly.

Sniffing and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, Ellie nodded. Glancing over at him, she saw his brow was arched and that glint of palpable concern shone through his warm gaze.

For a fleeting moment, she felt an ache inside of her chest. A sort of yearning to believe him. Because she did believe him. She did believe that he, Alec Hardy, was not what this man was. He was not like them.

And yet, so many others were. Or could be.

Ellie had to look away from him. She couldn’t look at him, feel the things she did, and stomach everything that Leo Humphries and Michael Lucas had just revealed to them.

Her thoughts swirled darkly like rain clouds gathering momentum as cyclical thoughts of how Joe groomed Danny to believe abnormal behavior was indeed normal, how Leo groomed Michael to rape Trish Winterman. How Michael could have possibly groomed Tom into believing…

No, she couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t group Tom or Fred into this category of twisted men.

They _were not_ their father. They would _never be_ like their father. She would see to that.

“I hope so,” She murmured unsteadily, folding her arms around her against the chill of the late summer air.

“Are you alright, Millah?”

Biting on her bottom lip, she swallowed back the hard knot in her throat and nodded.

“‘Cause if you were to need the day…”

“No,” She cleared her throat, found his gaze and added with more conviction, “no, let’s get on with this.”

Standing, she brushed down the front and back of her trousers, smoothing out any wrinkles or imperfections. She felt that familiar hardening inside of her chest as she strode purposefully back into the precinct.

She would face these lesser men like she always did; head on and without a note of fear.

* * *

 

The front door to the house squealed open, followed by the _thump, thump_ of trainers being kicked off. Then there was the fast shifting of weight from the front door to the main stairs.

“Tom?!” Ellie called out from her place at the kitchen table. Her hands remained folded around her steaming mug of coffee, head turning towards the entryway. He hovered on the bottom landing, hand clasped on the railing, pack strewn over one shoulder.

“Yeah?!” He echoed with that unapologetic, pubescent annoyance. His eyes widened, brow raised defiantly.

She ignored it, proffering a tight smile. “Can you…would you mind coming here a moment?”

Tom sighed, his shoulders sagging and eyes rolling dramatically. Dropping his pack by the front stairs, he trudged loudly down the hall leading to the back kitchen. He hovered behind the chair situated to her left until Ellie indicated that he really should sit down.

Grumbling a “whatever,” he completed the task, she inhaled deeply and clutched the mug more tightly.

_Go gentle, Ellie,_ she told herself. _This will be hard on him._

“Well?” Tom prompted with another overtly dramatic gesture of his arms.

_Start with the facts_ , she reminded herself.

“Tom…we’ve…we’ve solved the Trish Winterman case.”

He stared dubiously at her, “Okay…”

“There was plenty of forensic evidence as well as a confession,” She pressed on evenly. “It was someone you know. Someone you went to school with.”

His face pinched and he probed, “Who?”

Swallowing, she replied softly, “Michael Lucas.”

“What?" He frowned in sheer disbelief.

"I'm sorry darling," He went on soothingly, "I know he was your friend."

"No! No, no. Michael he…he wouldn’t have!” Tom pushed back his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table.

Ellie reached for his hand, “He did, I'm afraid. He confessed to it.”

“He wouldn’t have…he…he’s not like that!” Tom shoved her off, his mouth gaping in sheer disbelief at this.

She felt him slipping away, and it took everything in her not to reach for him again.

“I don’t think he inherently is like that,” Ellie bobbed her head in agreement, leaning forward with a lowered voice. She needed him to stay, to hear out the whole story and understand it. If he bolted now, there’s no telling what might happen. “But the fact of the matter is, he became friends with someone who is.”

Tom frowned suspiciously in her direction but folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. She exhaled at this, relieved that he was at least willing to listen. “Leo Humphries? You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” Tom spat out bitterly.

“Yeah, he’s more than a dick, he is,” Ellie agreed. “He’s a sociopath. He…he raped two other women in the past, and then he…he befriended Michael and…. he groomed him to rape Trish Winterman.” She paused studying his conflicted expression, “Do you know what I mean by that?”

Tom blinked and then decided firmly, “Leo made him do it?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, chewing on her bottom lip, “yeah, essentially he did.”

“But…Michael’s been arrested anyway? Why has Michael been arrested and not Leo?”

She’d been asking herself something similar all afternoon. _Why did Michael have to be arrested for something he wouldn’t have done had he not met Leo?_ It wasn’t fair, yet it was. This was a paradoxical case whose outcome she would never find peace in.

“They both have been, yes,” She stated evenly before going on in a tone she hoped he perceived to be sympathetic yet firm.

“You see Tom, the fact is…as sick and messed up as Leo Humphries is, Michael still committed a crime. A heinous crime. And he will still suffer some consequences for it.”

“That’s so unfair!” He cried out, his eyes scrunching and pooling with liquid. “How can…how can that happen?!” He shoved the palm of his hands into her eyes, biting on his bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

Ellie felt her heart pull in his direction, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Because there are evil people in this world who think it’s alright to take advantage of the weak. And that’s what Leo did to Michael.”

“I hope he rots!” Tom cried, sniffling back his tears. “I hope he dies in prison!” He lifted his face from his hands, and Ellie nearly flinched at his face, flushed with angry tears.

“Yeah,” She nodded, feeling Tom’s anger sink into her. Blinking a few more times in succession, she remarked in a shaky voice, “He’ll see justice. I’m sure of it.”

Tom sniffed again, wiping his nose with the back of his arm, “Still…it isn’t enough.”

Exhaling heavily Ellie remarked, “No, it probably isn’t."

_But it's a start._

* * *

 

They watched from the top of the staircase as the boys were cuffed and taken away through the side entrance of the courthouse.

Alec leaned his forearms on the wooden railing, scoffing as Leo Humphries attempted resist.

Ellie gripped the railing tightly, her knuckles turning white. Spine straightened she shoot death stares into the back of Leo’s head, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

_Good_ , she thought, _he should be scared_.

And then she softened a bit as Michael passed into view. Head bent forward, shoulders slumped in defeat. He’d taken a deal for a lesser sentence, but it was still hard to feel the same level of disdain for him as she did for Leo Humphries.

“How’s Tom through all of this?” Hardy asked.

Blinking back to the present, Ellie realized she’d been staring at an empty atrium for a few seconds. She shrugged and found his probing gaze, “He’s upset. Michael was his friend. I don’t think he understands how he could do something like this.”

“Ya.” Alec decided before agreeing, “It’s a hard thing to explain to a kid.”

“Understatement of the year,” She snorted in response before leaving her post on the landing and starting down the steps.

He took this as an invitation to follow her down the steps.

“Between his father murdering his old best friend, and his new best friend becoming a rapist,” She went on sardonically, folding her arms in front of her, “I don’t think there’s enough therapy in the world to save him from all the shit.”

“Och, don’t be so sure he canna handle it,” Alec went on reassuringly. “He’s strong. Like his Mum.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes at this, “Oh stop.”

“You are!” He exclaimed, his voice lilting a bit shrilly. “Most women who’ve gone through what you have, would’ve gone belly up by now. But you…” He paused, his hand lightly brushing her arm, prompting her to stop and look up at him, “…you’ve faced it all head on. And with dignity.” He marveled at her with a sort of smiling admiration that made her cheeks redden a bit. “There’s no question Tom’s seen that and its changed him for the better.”

Ellie laughed softly to herself, her eyes lowering from the unexpected intensity in his words, “Thanks sir.”

“Don’t mention it,” He patted her on the arm, and then moved away.

She followed after him, feeling somewhat lighter, and teased, “That was your best supportive boss talk yet.”

“Och, don’t go all…” He made a look of disgust, flipping his hands diffidently.

She chuckled in amusement before trilling, “And DI Grumpypants is back, folks.”

“Oh shut up, Millah,” He grumbled before shooting a somewhat pointed look in her direction. “We ‘ave work to do!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, THANK YOU for all of the kudos & comments! Seriously it means a lot that so many of you took the time to read my little story here. :) Anyway, I apologize if this next chapter seems a bit pointless. I was trying to establish another character here just because of reasons that you will later come to understand while also showcasing more of the Hardy/Miller dynamic here to set up things for later as well. Let me know what you think if you like or just take it all in & enjoy! :)

She rather missed her short bob of hair. It was so much easier to tame than the lengthy ponytail that whipped around her shoulders, weighing her down. Before all the upkeep she required was a quick spritz of mousse following a shower, and the curls held nicely in place for most of the day. More recently she'd been forced to juggle multiple products alongside a combing routine that snared and caught painfully. There'd been so many mornings where she had given up, and just smoothed it back into a long crinkled mess of a ponytail.

As the shears went at it, sawing off her long tresses, Ellie began to feel lighter. Almost like weight of the Winterman case was lifting as her hair floated down to the floor. She'd even let the stylist talk her into some caramel colored highlights to cover some of the gray. Not that she cared really about that (who was she trying to impress these days?), but the girl insisted it would frame her face nicely and give her that "fresh," look she came into the salon desiring.  

Swiveling Ellie around in the chair, she leaned over her shoulder and stared hopefully into her reflection in the mirror. “D’ye like it?”

Angling her head from side to side, Ellie tentatively reached up to touch the nape of her neck. Her hand was met with the bare skin where her hair once fell, and then feeling a bit more adventurous, she touched the freshly laid curls. The lighter streaks did in fact frame her face, and gave what the girl kept referring to as "dimension." Apparently this was a very up and coming style, so Ellie, knowing nothing of cutting edge styles, went along with the girl's suggestions.

Her short curls complimented the shape of her face, and could easily be swept behind her ear hastily, if needed. It was a similar look like before, but slightly different. Just as she was.

“Yes, I think so,” She smiled softly, her eyes alighting. And she strode out of the salon feeling fresher, lighter both inside and out.

The feeling stayed with her throughout the evening and into morning as she confidently strolled into work. Waving and offering a cheery greeting to nearly everyone on the floor, Ellie started to feel more like herself. She started to feel more normal than she did prior to the Winterman case.

It was a new day full of new opportunities.

Lifting her bag from her shoulder, she sank down in her chair and turned on her computer. While she waited for it to boot up, she went into the common kitchen in search of coffee. Taking a mug from the cupboard, she poured the steaming black liquid to nearly fill it. The aroma was bitter and warm, sending calming waves through her as she took her time in the ritual of readying this cup, her second of the morning.

The brief moment of soothing silence was interrupted by the gruff tones of her superior.

“Lobbed it all off have ye?” He appraised her with his usual air of agitation.

“Yes,” She replied with a cheery grin. “It needed something I think,” She added before taking a sip of her coffee.

Ellie watched as he moved between her and the microwave and filled his mug with water from the faucet before stuffing a decrepit looking teabag in afterwards.

He cast another sideways glance at her, his gaze fixating on where her hair fell (and where it used to as well) before setting his mug into the microwave, “Looks good, Millah.” Alec hit a few buttons and then the appliance revved to life. He turned and leaned with his lower back against the counter, arms folding across his chest. Inclining his head, he went on, “Did ye, add a bit ‘o color to it as well?” He pointed his index finger at her, swirling it around a bit to indicate where he noticed the streaks of highlights.

“Yeah, a bit.” Her eyes moved away from his, and she instinctively reached up to brush back a loose strand.

“I like it,” He decided with a shrug, his eyes sweeping to the floor while he turned back to the microwave and popped it open in a single motion.

“Was that another compliment?” She couldn’t help but tease, her brow pinching together a bit. “Did you actually give me two compliments?” She knew she sounded stunned, but really, it was uncharacteristic of him. Cocking her head to one side, she egged him on further, “What’s in your coffee this morning?”

“I don’t hav’ coffee,” He began steeping his teabag for effect.

“Right, just that disgusting stewed tea then?” She wrinkled her nose for effect, peering cautiously into his mug while he tossed the wet bag into the wastebasket beside him.

“Och,” He grumbled with an eyeroll, “don’t start Millah.” He brought the mug to his lips, taking a thoughtful sip.

“You know,” She leaned her hip into the counter, “you’d probably be half as grumpy as you are if you stopped drinking that shit and got some proper coffee.” She finished it with a teasing grin, waiting for his reaction.

Scrunching his face again, he countered swiftly, “Must I remind you that I have a condition that limits my intake of caffeine?”

“Oh, so dramatic,” She stood up straighter, rolling her neck and then taking another long sip of her coffee.

Alec scoffed, “Yea, I only nearly died on the job.”

Pursing her lips together Ellie taunted, “Are you going out for a BAFTA? Because you might just win, you know?” She bit her bottom lip to try and stifle the amused laughter that threatened to escape.

Practically Gawking at her, Alec went on a bit incredulously, “Can you be serious for one second?! Is that actually possible for you to do?!”

She giggled at him a bit before straightening out her expression. “All right. Don’t get all worked up now. You _do_ have a condition.” Ellie smirked over the rim of her coffee cup as she took another sip.

“Och, I’m going,” He pushed off from his place at the countertop, abandoning her for the confines of his office.

“See you later!” She called with a broad smile, whirling around in time to see, Billy, the new DS, watching her with interest.

Her smiled faded a bit, and she moved along back to her desk.

It wasn't that she minded others taking notice of her close working relationship with Alec Hardy. She was more than qualified to be acting as his second in command. Her credentials spoke for themselves. And mostly everyone who'd been around when rumors of their romantic entanglement circulated during the Danny Latimer case moved on to other things. Broadchurch had been a temporary post for those folks. For Ellie, it was indefinitely permanent. For Alec, she couldn't be entirely sure, but thought just as much for him. 

As Ellie logged onto her computer, and retrieved the stack of case files from the inbox on her desk, she glanced up at Billy Russell. His gaze was lowered, and his thick, dark brow knitted together. He was chewing on his thin, bottom lip, those dreary, gray eyes of his lost in thought. His floppy brown hair was expertly gelled in some comb over fashion that he likely meant to be stylish. She hadn't quite figured him out yet, but from what she could already deduce was that he was young and fresh out of training. 

He likely might not fully grasp the bond between two colleagues in their line of work. But for the moment, his interest in whatever it was she'd been doing with DI Hardy already dissipated. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ellie cleared her mind of any lingering doubts. Another long draw from her coffee mug, and she was ready for the day.  

* * *

She brightened at the chance to learn more about Billy Russell they were both assigned to a break in case. En route to the house, she peered over the steering wheel, noticing him studying the file in his lap as though it might have all the answers to the questions that swirled around in his troubled mind.  

"Erm..." She cleared her throat before asking, "How long you been in Broadchurch, Billy?"

"Since May," He replied lightly, not looking up from the file as he read through it. 

"And...what brought you here?" She wondered lightly.

"I needed to get away," He exhaled with the same dramatic air she received from Tom. It nearly made her chuckle amusedly. 

"Ahh," She paused, steeling herself from chuckling at him. Instead she probed casually, "So we're just a short stop on a long journey?"

"I suppose," He shrugged. Flipping through the case file, he asked, "Shouldn't we be discussing the case?"

_What was there to discuss at present?_

All they had was the basics. A woman phoned stating one hundred pounds of antique jewelry had been stolen and she believed it to be her drug dealing son-in-law. Of course, they had to go through a proper investigation before any formal charges could be made. When Ellie explained this to the Mrs. Braverman, she had sounded quite disappointed. 

"I try not to until we're at the scene," Ellie explained with a tightening smile. "It muddles things."

"Right," Was all the response she got from him. 

"So erm...have any family?" She tried again, thinking maybe this angle might inspire some conversation on their scheduled forty-five minute drive.

Billy made a few notes on the papers in front of him before replying dryly, "Everyone's got family, yea?"

Her smiled faded once more. _What was his problem with her?_

Even so, Ellie aimed for professionalism and ignored the dry annoyance in his voice. Pressing on, she probed more directly, "So no...wife? Husband? Partner? Kids?"

"Look," He looked up from the paperwork in his lap, "you don't have to do this thing."

"I'm sorry?" Her brow knitted together dubiously.

"This _let's get to know one another_ thing," His voice did a high pitch imitation of her, and she felt her blood begin to boil. "It's not like we've been formally assigned as partners or anything."

"But we're partners today, yea?" Her tone lost its usual sweetness and patience now. "And _I'm_ the more Senior DS on this case."

He groaned and looked down, shaking his head. "I'm not one for muddling my personal life with work, alright?"

"Alright that's fine then!" She asserted, feeling her jaw clenching. "But there's no need for you to be an ass!"

Billy flinched, not expecting this type of outburst from her. Clearly, he didn't know her and what she was capable of, but he was about to learn. 

She'd been drifting into the opposing lane, and swerved the car back on track as she went on emphatically, "We're not partners indefinitely, thank goodness for that! But fact is, we are partners _today_! And technically _I am your superior_ , and I am capable of writing you up for insubordination. And I have absolutely no problem doing that if it means you'll afford me proper respect! Do you understand?"

He exhaled sharply, but the monosyllabic word came out rather evenly, "Yes."

"No, no," Ellie lifted a finger, jabbing it in the air in front of him, "the correct answer is _yes ma'am_."

He arched his brow and replied smoothly, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," She let go of the breath that had been rattling around inside of her chest. It felt good to set things straight, to let him know this passive aggressive charade wouldn't jive with her.  

She would have a talk with DI Hardy on his reasons for hiring a pretentious ass like Billy Russell whenever they returned to the station.  

* * *

Her ire in regards to her assignment that day quelled a bit. Billy complied with her every request, and even let go of his preconceived assessments of this case. He'd been reviewing the drug dealing son-in-law's record during their slight tiff in the car ride, but from their initial investigation, it appeared that he no longer lived in Broadchurch, let alone England.

Still, as she finished up reviewing Billy's write up of the day's findings, she planned on giving Hardy shit on some level for the hiring of Billy Russell.  

“Case files for your viewing pleasure, sir,” She plopped them on top of his keyboard cheerfully.

Jumping from the contact, Alec shot her a glaring look before reading the titular page. “Och, so it wasn't the drug dealing son-in-law?” He peered over the rim of his glasses at her, searching for clarification.

“Not as far as we can tell," She explained, taking the liberty of sitting down on the plush leather couch in his office. "He hasn't had a known address in all of the UK or the EU for that matter for the last five years. Not to mention, all of his business associates are either dead or incarcerated or have dropped off the map as well. So no one is particularly aware of his whereabouts. Which has led DS Russell and I to believe he is either off on a beach somewhere where jurisdiction doesn't reach or someone's done him in or, what has been assumed since we lost sight of him that he's living under another identity."

He reached up to scratch his head, "All of which wouldn't be impossible given his lifestyle."

"Yeah, also it's only one hundred pounds worth of jewelry. Surely given his ties to various drug running gangs, he wouldn't be stealing such a small sum."

Martin Morton was associated as a key leader in a notorious drug related gang in Bristol. When an undercover gig blew up in local law enforcement's faces, he ended up falling off the face of the earth, taking most of those in his inner circle with him. Even though his wife's family had ties in Broadchurch, it was most unlikely that he would risk several years of living in plain sight. 

"Someone could've done it for him," Hardy posed with an arched brow.

"Well of course, but why risk so much when there's only little to gang?" She scoffed before informing him, "Mrs. Braverman assured us most of the pieces held sentimental value more so than anything else." 

"Any other suspects?" He took his glasses off, and shifted to lean on one elbow. With his other hand he lifted the case file, handing it back to her from across his desk.

She stood again to meet him, taking the paperwork from him. "Russell is corroborating the youngest daughter's story. Seems like she had some interest in family genealogy and no place for her mother's jewels in the will."

"Her relationship to Martin?" His brow lifted curiously.

"Well as far as we can tell just the former sister-in-law," She mused with a wry half smile. "But I suppose these days, one can't know for certain."

"Let's hope its as easy as that," His eyes widened and he went back to moving his keyboard in front of him. 

Here was her opening. The question that had been held back behind her teeth for the entirety of their exchange just tumbled out.

"Where did you find him anyway?"

"Who?" Hardy's head shot up, his mouth rounding in confusion.

She jerked her head towards the bull pen, her eyes sweeping over where Russell sat and then landed back on him.

He'd been following the trajectory of her gaze and he asked, "Russell?"

"Yeah," She folded her arms in front of her chest and asserted, "he was a righteous git up until I told him off this morning."

Hardy chuckled at this, lowering his gaze and shaking his head. "Ah Millah...if ye can handle me, one fresh out of CID training shouldn't be a problem."

"He's not a problem, he's more of an irritant." She looked over her shoulder briefly, checking he remained in place. "I hope you're not planning on deserting me and placing us together full time," Her eyes grew rather menacingly at this to show she meant business. 

Hardy smirked up at her, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he teased, "So what if I was?"

"You wouldn't!" She grumbled, feeling her mouth purse together tightly.

The thought of her having to continuously work with a stiff like Russell was enough to make her consider assaulting him. Especially since it evidently brought him great pleasure to yield that sort of power over her.  

He leaned forward in his chair, bringing his hands beneath his chin and emulating some sort of mocking, doe eyed expression. "Are ye missing me already, Millah?" 

"No..." Ellie visibly shrunk back at this unexpected display. 

What the hell did he think he was doing looking at her like that? It was not at all like him. Unless he was merely pretending to be her in some type of ironic fashion. Yes, that was most likely it. But then...

"Then why d'ye care if you're assigned with Russell then?"

"Because!" She remarked indignantly, although her feeling was probably not entirely directed at Russell's existence as it was at Hardy's behavior.

" _Because_ isn't a reason," He told her with that stupid smirk deepening across his face. 

Feeling her teeth grit, Ellie took in a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. Pointing a finger at him she went on, "It's not a joke! I've been on some of the most high profile cases we've had since you stole my job..."

"Still not over that, are ye?" He taunted.

Taking everything within her to ignore this retort she went on, "Now I don't mind doing the lower level stuff as needed, but I'm a Senior DS. Borderline DI, actually. I should be doing work that's up to par with that. Not babysitting some swaggery little shit whom I can't trust as far as I can throw."

"D'ye think I don't know the value you add, Millah?" He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. "Did ye ever think that I asked ye to partner up with Russell _because_ yer one of my most senior people?"

Ellie didn't say anything to this, her hand dropped and she went on scowling. Damn him and his compliments today.  

"We haven't had a high profile case since the Winterman case. So I need ye to bring new hires like Russell up to speed. So that when we do have one, you and I can be on the front lines, tasking people like him with everything else."

Her mouth dropped open and she attempted to protest this, but found she couldn't find the words.

Hardy quickly filled in for her. "I'll not desert ye Millah," He assured her rather softly. His teasing grin transformed into something warmer, "Yer far too valuable for that."

She blinked back at him speechless. Ellie watched him for several moments before he cleared his throat and looked down at his desk, pretending to busy himself. She could have sworn the tips of his ears were a rosier hue than they'd been moments ago, and she felt a warmth rise up within her. 

"You know," Her voice came out more melodious now at the realization that perhaps he might feel some slight embarrassment at being so forthcoming with compliments, "I'm beginning to think there's something in that dishwater tea of yours that makes you a nicer person."

He snorted at this and then quipped, "You should try it sometime."

"I'd rather stick a bar of soap in my mouth," She scoffed, turning to go.

"Now whose being an irritant?" He called after her gleefully. 

"Oh shove it," She wrinkled her nose before shutting his office door behind her. 

She heard him chime in just before the door closed, "G'night Millah!"

Stalking out of his office once more, Ellie glanced to her right and noticed Billy watching her. Rerouting herself she stormed over to his desk and he immediately shifted in his desk, attempting to find interest in his computer screen.

"How's the information on the latest suspect coming?" She nearly barked at him.

"Good...good...great," He blustered a bit, clicking on his mouse and moving it around on the pad a bit.

Leaning forward over his desk, she caught sight of his screensaver. An antiquated, red car that most likely held some sort of fascination among those group of men who drool over cars. 

"Mhm," She hummed in agreement, a satisfied smirk twitching at her lips. "Well, see to it that I have it on my desk first thing tomorrow, yea? I'll have to review with DI Hardy."

"Yes ma'am," He nodded, hastily keying his password into the computer while she hovered near his desk. 

"Goodnight Russell," She inclined her head before turning around to make her way out of the station. 

If she was stuck with him for the time being, the least she could do was have a bit of fun with him. 


	3. Chapter 3

Swirling the wineglass around, the pale liquid swished as Beth leaned back on her side of the sofa. Legs curled underneath her, she let out a breath now that they were settled and asked, “How’s work?”

“Oh, you know,” Ellie shrugged, taking a sip of wine. Casting a jovial smirk in her friend’s direction she quipped, “Steady flow of misdemeanors.” Inclining her glass in her direction, she returned, “You?”

Lifting her eyes to the ceiling and tilting her head from side to side, Beth finally decided, “Infrequent flow of trauma victims.”

“Well that’s something to drink to then,” Ellie raised her glass, and not waiting for Beth to clink hers together, she took another steady sip.

“Yeah,” Beth chuckled a bit, running a finger along the rim of her glass as she explained, “just enough to keep us going, but not enough to lose total hope in all of humanity.”

“Here, here.” Ellie clinked her glass to Beth’s at this but didn’t drink. It was Beth’s turn to take another.

A beat of silence pulsed between them, companionable after the long day at work Ellie experienced. She’d been stuck in an interrogation room with DS Russell and Miss. Braverman, who indeed stole her mother’s jewels in the hopes of turning a profit by selling to a group of shady buyers who hoarded significant antiquities on a sort of black market.

The confession part had been relatively easy. It was the smugness of DS Russell as he lapped up all the praise from Hardy (even though there was still the matter of how they might obtain the items already sold, but Mrs. Braverman was to be reimbursed with the profit her youngest would have otherwise made). That really set her off for some unidentifiable reason, or at least, for a reason she would rather care to not admit. And it was this reason that was contributing to Ellie’s proclivity to drink this evening.

Thank god that Lizzie and Fred could play together in the next room unobserved and Tom and Chloe were old enough to be left to their own devices. Ellie wasn’t sure what she would do without the regular company of her friend, Beth Latimer.

In spite of everything throughout the last few years, they both came to recognize they were victims one in the same. Time had healed any ill will that Beth felt towards Ellie and dissolved any residual guilt Ellie felt for what happened to Beth’s family.

She found herself a smiling a bit at how they’d been able to move past it all. Sometimes impossible ideals could be transformed into probable realities.

“Chloe’s been spending a lot of time with DI Hardy’s girl,” Beth interjected the statement into the air, pulling Ellie out of her own head.

Blinking back to the present, Ellie nodded, “Oh Daisy? That’s nice.”

“Yeah, she’s a sweet girl,” Beth went on lightly. “Not one of those party goers.” Her eyes widened, and tone dropped with a bit of disdain at the sheer mention of _those_ teenagers. Ellie knew all too well as Tom kept flirting with the notion of joining them now and again.  

“Which is the path Chloe was headed down on ever since Danny…” She trailed off and then shrugged, lifting the wineglass to her lips.

“Yeah…” Ellie sighed, remembering the difficulty that passed for Chloe following Danny’s death and then the eventual break up with Dean.

Poor Beth had called her frantically many times, seeking advice or assistance. Short of arresting Chloe to set some kind of precedence, there wasn’t much Ellie could do. At least, she hadn’t felt like she’d done more than the usual _take their electronic devices away, take away their modes of transportation_ parenting advice. It seemed to work on Tom. For the most part.

Ellie thought momentarily of complimenting Beth for all of her hard work and efforts, but her friend again brought the conversation back to life.

“So, how’s it been having him at work?”

“Who?” Shifting to lean back against the armchair on the couch, cradling the bell of her glass in both hands.

“Hardy,” Beth answered with a questioning look. Almost as if to say _who else would I mean?_

Ellie’s mouth rounded, and her face lit up with recognition.

“He was temporarily filling in right? Now he’s on permanently?” The line of questioning felt rather skeptical, and Ellie felt something prickle at the back of her neck at the sheer thought of it.

“Well we…we never really discussed it,” She responded with another shrug. “I assumed he’s…here for good.” She took another swig of wine, pausing to taste it and then swallow. “That is,” Her gaze landed on the small bit of wine leftover in the glass, “he shows no signs of leaving prematurely.”

“You’re not cross about him taking over?” Beth wondered, shooting her a calculated glance.

“I _was_ ,” Ellie looked up and admitted easily.

“And…now?” Beth prompted with a smile.

The slyness in her gaze set Ellie a bit on edge. She laughed a bit nervously, “I dunno. I’ve gotten rather used to him…I dunno…”

Given her conversation with him the other day, he seemed to believe a part of her still was cross about the whole thing. Maybe she was. Maybe deep down she felt the position was rightfully hers in some way.

But then she thought back to the Latimer case and the trial. And then their handling of Trish Winterman’s case. Not to mention the unsolicited praise he gave her yesterday.

Alec Hardy was a leader. There was some magnetic about his personality that drew people in easily. And a gruffness that could separate himself from the hard stuff found in their day to day.

Ellie Miller was…well, she believed she had leadership potential most certainly. She was mostly respected throughout the precinct. Although that git Billy Russell seemed to take issue with her being a woman with some authority. But she could nip certain preconceived notions in the bud when the air arose.

She was mostly agreeable, mostly caring, and altruistic with her motives for joining CID. And when severity of temperament was called for, she didn’t take issue with letting people understand how she felt.

She had similar qualities to Alec Hardy undoubtedly. So, she could see why Beth still questioned him in the role of DI versus her.    

But the simple fact of it was, and this is when she informed Beth rather plainly, “He’s good at his job.”

“So are you,” She argued with a promising smile. “The way you got us through with Danny’s case...and the way you handled at the shit I threw at you during the trial…Ellie you could do it just as well as him.”

_She’s probably right_ , Ellie thought. She smiled and lowered her eyes before mumbling a modest, “Thanks.”

“It seems like, at least from my limited knowledge, you do a lot of what he does, but for half the pay and without a title.”

That wasn’t always important to her. Not so much as being liked.

And there it was, she came to realize. The fault in her that likely cost her the job. Impartially wasn’t a problem. She just couldn’t stand the thought of someone disliking her for no apparent cause.  

When Ellie looked up again her mouth dropped a bit, and she nearly vocalized this. But truthfully, she wasn’t in the mood to debate this, so she exhaled, head cocking to one side, “Since when did you become such an advocate for woman’s rights?”

“I always have been,” Beth assured her, and then a thought struck her. “But I suppose the Winterman case just pulled more of it out of me,” She remarked rather proudly.

It warmed Ellie to see her friend so passionate about something again. After life had put her through the wringer, Beth Latimer still rose to the defense and aid of other’s in need. She had found something worthwhile to honor her son’s tragic death. She had found purpose outside of her children once more, for herself and for no one else.

Would Ellie ever feel that way?

Sure, her job was always her life’s work. Then came her boys and they took up half of her heart. Then there was Joe.

Her blood chilled momentarily at the thought of Joe and the place in her heart where he once resided. It was now a deep, black hole. An empty space that would likely never be filled.

A heaviness rose behind her eyes, but Ellie cleared her mind of all thoughts of this. She didn’t need that. She didn’t need anyone to fill that space again. She had enough in her life between her job and Tom and Fred. That was all she needed. Or was it?   

“Perhaps I’ll take it up with the DSU at some point,” She shrugged nonchalantly. “But…for now!” She drained her glass, proffered it to Beth, and she asserted cheerfully, “More wine!”

Beth accepted the glass and chuckled amusedly.

Ellie scooted forward on the couch, lifting a DVD from her brown, leather satchel. “And then! This!” She waggled it in front of Beth enough for her to catch the title and cheer in approval.

“Ooh, ye know,” She pointed her index finger, hand still wrapped around a glass, “I heard there’s a nice, male bum shot in that!”

“Beth!” Ellie chortled, swiping at the air between them with her hand.

“Whaat? He’s fit!” Beth trilled girlishly.

“Alright yes he is. But he’s probably closer to Tom’s age…”

“Och Ell…” Beth made a face as she moved to the counter, “don’t think about that, eh?”

“I know, I know you’re right,” Ellie grimaced instantly regretting this line of thought.

She usually wasn’t one who fawned over younger men like that. It felt a bit unnatural given the fact that she had sons.

The distinctive pop of a cork being dislodged from a bottle, prompted her to glance back up at Beth who was being liberal with pouring.

“Yes just…give me more wine,” She reached up for it like a small child might a cup of juice, “maybe I’ll get sloshed enough to forget I ever thought that.”

Beth flashed a cheeky grin as she maneuvered back into the living room. “Wouldn’t be a proper girls’ night if one of us didn’t get sloshed.”

Ellie chuckled at this before taking the wine and downing nearly half of it.

“To bum shots then!” She cheered jovially, prompting Beth to snort into her glass.

Fuck the hole in her heart and to jobs not had, Ellie Miller still had things to make her feel alive.

* * *

 

Perhaps that other thing worth living for, shouldn’t have been wine.

Ellie shuffled into work the next day, deeply regretting finishing off that last bottle of red.

Her head pulsed with the twinges of a headache before she stumbled into bed, still wearing her jeans and jumper. She knew a hangover was imminent the next morning. But her stomach insisted it was too full to handle any water and her brain and body ached with fatigue.

So, she gave in. And now she just wanted to give up before the day could even begin.

Especially whenever she knocked square into DI Hardy just in front of the lift doors. She watched rather helplessly as her bag flew off her arm, the flap somehow flew open and the contents spilled across the floor.

“Oh bloody…!”

“Och Millah will ye…!” He paused, frowning at her with that look of concern she’d seen before. And the hardness in his expression dissolved to something softer as soon as he realized the damage he’d accidentally done, “Are ye alright?”

His hand gripped her arm, and she grumbled a _“fine,”_ before gingerly extracting herself and moving across the lobby to gather her scattered belongings.

When she grabbed the smaller rounded shaped objects that nearly made a clean getaway, she noticed Hardy standing close by, her satchel is one hand and last night’s DVD in the other.

He’d obviously read the title (The Lucky One) and seen the overtly romantic cover and was now shooting her a questioning look that was budding into a teasing half grin.

“Thanks,” She muttered again, focusing on shoving the DVD back into her bag, hoping he would forget the whole thing.

She should have known that as soon as they stepped onto the lift that he wouldn’t.

“I would have never pegged ye for a romantic, Millah.”

Massaging her temple as if that would speed up the aspirin she took this morning, Ellie remarked dryly, “Right well…it’s just a film.”

He leaned in closer, his cologne reaching her nose and turning her stomach a bit.

“Suppose I should cancel that romantic dinner I had planned for you and Russell then,” The teasing edge in his words was so obviously present to incite a rise in her. But she was too sickly to care at present.

“Oh, will you just bugger off,” She shoved him in the shoulder, pushing him away from her.

Hardy chuckled triumphantly, leaning against the wall of the lift. “I take it girls night got a little wild then.”

“Wha-how’d you know about that?” Ellie shot him a scrunched-up look.

“Chloe mentioned she wouldn’t be missed if she stayed the night,” He explained, “Said you and Beth were undoubtedly half in the bottle, drooling over certain types of men.”

“Yeah well…it was a _tasteful_ film. That _happened_ to have some romance. But _that_ wasn’t the whole point of it.”

Her pointed emphasis was still amusing to him.

He looked up to the electronic number that changed as they passed through the various floors. He remarked casually, “I thought all Sparks’ films were the same.”

She paused for a moment, waiting for his words to sink in, and then she nearly laughed out loud. Reaching for his arm just as the doors swung open, she held him in place, “Hang on, did you just say Sparks? As in Nicholas Sparks? As in the author of the original book from which this movie adaptation came?” 

The mischievous grin washed from his face as did his coloring.

Suddenly, she felt the effects of her morning aspirin kick in.

“Oh my god,” She breathed, a smile twitching at her lips, “you know it!” She exclaimed, suddenly feeling eons better for being back in control of their conversation, “ _How_ do you know it?”

“I have a teenage daughter,” He replied, shooting her a guarded look before pressing on.

Striding in double time to keep up with him, she retorted, “And here you are, giving me shit for watching it when you’ve seen it! Ah!” She nudged him in the ribs, and his hands came up, shoving her away from him.

“I haven’t seen it!” He hissed lowly, trying to silence her as they now stood in the middle of the floor, “I just…she has the book. I know the title is all.”

“Uhu,” Ellie smirked, laughter trickling in between her words, “likely story.”

“Och shut up, Millah,” He leaned closer to her, “Or I’ll be inclined to make that dinner reservation with ye and Russell.”

He was recycling quips now, so she knew she’d won this round. Even while hungover.

Instead of angering her, he made her snort and then burst out laughing. “Yeah right,” She chided before passing in front of him to make her way to her desk, “I could _practically_ be his mother.” 

“I want those jewels recovered!” He called after her for everyone else in the open office to hear. “Before ye leave for the weekend!” It wasn’t this that infuriated her, but what he shouted out next, “Russell! If ye don’t find them, ye’ll have Millah to thank for the overtime!”

Whirling around on the spot, Ellie shot him a jagged expression.

It was all fun and games until he thrust his authority about. Then Miller felt her blood begin to boil. As she dropped her satchel down behind her desk and booted up her computer, she was already mentally drafting her email to their detective superintendent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my limited research of hierarchy in the British police, suggests that a Detective Superintendent (DSU) would be higher up than Alec or Ellie. Again, I apologize if the wording feels clunky. I'm not a Brit, so it doesn't always come so natural to me. Hopefully I did them justice yet again. I promise we are getting to the major conflict of this story soon. :)


	4. Chapter 4

She didn't send it.

She had typed up the email, her keyboard smashing quite noticeable to Billy Russell, whom she kept catching staring in her direction with a quizzical look. She would then pause, smile sweetly, and force her fingers to stroke the keys a little less vigorously. But three times, her pent-up anger got the better of her, and she went on slamming the keys to make her point known.

It was the second time this week that Hardy felt he could thrust his authority around without any worry for consequences that might arise. She was done with being the one on the receiving end of his verbal punches. She might dish out jabs like him, but she wasn't one for doing it in front of the whole staff. And certainly not one to do it in front of the officer he might've been working with, or make insinuations that he was leading the investigation and that she was the problem.  

As she worked on the closing lines, Ellie stopped. Hardy was striding through the office, eyes intent as he clearly worked on a problem that was plaguing him. He picked up a dark blue mug, set in his teabag, and went about making his morning cuppa.

She watched his brash movements, watched his brow knit together and his lips move ever so slightly as though he were muttering something under his breath. And then he cried out in slight pain as his finger caught in the cutlery drawer.

Ellie snorted at this, watching him shake his hand, trying to redistribute the pain.

Suddenly, her ire dissolved as a thought struck her.

_Karma can be a fickle bitch._

She stared at the screen before her. What was she doing? This wasn't her. She didn't circumvent to get what she wanted. Ellie Miller went after what she wanted directly.  
  
And what she wanted now was to call Alec Hardy out for his unexpected outburst directed at her, in front of their entire staff. She wanted to cross the room to the office kitchenette and just explode at him for being a self-important prick.

But that damn DS Billy Russell sidled up to her desk, redirecting her focus.

“Hey Miller.”

She clicked the exit button on the email, hitting cancel when prompted about saving the message. Folding her hands together atop her desk, she peered up at her temporary partner, “Yes Russell? What can I do for you?”

“Well I thought you would be interested in knowing that I might have found another lead to those jewels.”

Interest coursed through her body, and she felt her ears perk up instinctively. “Really now?”

“Isla Braverman,” He named the youngest daughter just arrested for burglary and possession, “had a boyfriend, and he was attached to her brother-in-law’s Bristol gang. The only thing is, I don’t know if they were still in touch, he hasn’t been living in Broadchurch since 2009.” He tossed a file on top of her desk, and Ellie’s brow lifted in slight shock.

“Suppose they managed long distance all this time?” She chewed on her bottom lip, reading through the case file.

He scoffed at this similarly, and she felt her lips twitch into a smile. At least her humor was loosening him up.

 _Thank God for small miracles._  

During Isla Braverman's confession, she produced a shaky alibi of having a boyfriend, with whom she spent the entire day and night with during the jewel heist. However, she wouldn’t give up a name, and without it, it didn’t hold up. It was strange that she didn’t try to defend herself after that. Almost as though she had said too much whenever she mentioned the mysterious boyfriend.

“Enrico Vangala…” She pointed at the boyfriend’s name, her eyes studying his mugshot for several seconds. “…from Brazil? Hmmm…wonder if that’s where he is now?” She looked back up to Billy for confirmation.

“No idea," He shrugged, folding his arms front of his neatly pressed dress shirt. "We could ask for CCTV in the surroundings areas Isla said she was. See if we catch sight of him,” He shrugged again as though he already knew the idea wasn't a strong one.

Cocking her head to one side, Ellie began questioningly, “And you think he’s a viable lead because…”

As her words cut out, he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “Well if the heist was related to Martin Morton..." He began, a twinkle forming in his dreary, grey eyes, "...he’s probably the closest person we’ve had to him in years.”

She could practically read his thoughts through this single look. And it took everything in her to find some restraint; not to suddenly burst out with  _absolutely not._ Someone like Russell, who was eager also had the potential to become power hungry. A collar on someone like Martin Morton would mean awards and accolades. But it came at one of the highest prices that Ellie knew. 

He was the leader of a notorious gang. Which meant there were layers of men they would have to get through before even catching a glimpse of him. And due to the failed operation years ago, those gang members would have gotten smarter. They would recognize more signs for what to look out for. And someone as inexperienced as Billy could likely end up dead sooner than he could ask his first question to Enrico Vangala. 

But Miller knew this wouldn't appeal to him. This would merely come across as antagonistic, and drive him to find other ways to get close to Morton. He might be tolerating their partnership now, but he wasn't dutifully respecting it as she'd been forcing herself to.

Instead, Ellie closed the case file and went to hand it back to him. Her tone was neutral whenever she reminded him, “Our case isn’t finding Martin Morton. Our case is to find the missing jewels.” 

“What if we can do both?” He placed both of his palms on her desk, leaning forward as though he could entice her.

“It’s far too risky," Ellie asserted. "And," She pointed her pen in his direction, "it goes beyond what we’ve been trained to do.”

“Which is why they wouldn't expect it,” He argued lightly. "No way they would see an entry level DS fresh out of CID as a real threat."

“Look," Ellie rose in her chair, putting herself on the same level as him, "I’ll go to Hardy about the CCTV footage and get approval for you on that. But only on the off chance that Isla wasn’t lying about spending the day with him and he might know where the jewels are." She pulled off a post-it note and began writing down the known areas that they previously identified her in. Standing back up straight, she gestured for him to hand back the file. Eyeing him solemnly she reiterated, "We are _not_ looking for Mortonr. Do you understand me? That man is a lunatic.”

Russell released the file to her, a cunning smirk splaying across his lips. “Know him personally, do you?”

“No," She stuck the sticky note on the front of the file. "But I’ve read his case file just as you have. You want to argue with me on knowing all of that?” 

Russell shrugged once more, and then drifted back towards his desk. 

"Work another angle," Ellie called out to him evenly. "Check out those conversations on Ancestry.com again, yea? Might find some valuable information there as well."

"Oh I'm sure a grandmother from Sussex has ties to the black market," Russell scoffed, shaking his head as he sunk down at his desk. 

"Whatever," Ellie muttered under her breath while she was on her way to DI Hardy's office, "don't do your job properly. But don't think that I'm not watching."

She knocked on the doorframe of Hardy's office.

He glanced up over the rim of his glasses, and beckoned her forward.

“Are you ready to speak to me like a civilized human being now?” She grumbled, still reeling from Russell's resistance from her directive. 

He hadn't anticipated this remark, so blinking back in surprise, Alec then frowned and replied, “I always do.”

“Right.” She closed the door behind her, and approached his desk. “Well, your little performance in front of the whole staff earlier was _not_ appreciated,” She remarked stiffly, her eyes hardening and shooting darts into him.

Recognizing this, Hardy took off his glasses and bowed his head slightly forward. “I’m sorry," His eyes flickered back up to hers contritely, "I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Wow," Ellie marveled, swallowing back her next argumentative response. "I thought I was going to have to work harder for an apology.”

“When I’m wrong, I say I am wrong. Don’t I?” He questioned sheepishly.

Fusing her mouth together she taunted, “Usually begrudgingly.”

“Ach, well I've apologized now," He offered his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Can ye forgive me for it?"

There was a genuine apologetic tone to his words. And did look rather regretful at having acted like he did. It softened her a bit, and she found the hardness inside of her slowly crumbling. Still, she would never let her feelings out enough for him to know that she was totally accepting of his apology, and by proxy, his behavior. Through her tightly drawn lips she assented, "I suppose I can find _somewhere_ in my heart to."

"If anyone has the room it's certainly you," He inclined his head towards her in acknowledgment. Clearing his throat, he took on a more direct line of questioning, "Now, is there something you needed, Millah?”

She cleared her throat similarly, any pretenses of personal issues set aside now as their talk reverted to business. “Russell has an idea of how to get the jewels back. I think it’s a long shot, but it involves Isla Braverman’s former or current boyfriend, Enrico Vangala. We need permission to get CCTV footage in the following areas listed.” 

He received the file from her, and then asked with his brow knitted together, “Former or current?”

“He doesn’t have a record of living here since 2009 But Isla mentioned a boyfriend in her alibi," Ellie explained. "Like I said, it’s a long shot.”

He nodded, turning his attentions back to his desk, “I’ll put the request through. But to your point, you might want to work another angle.”

Flashing a brief smile, she was glad to hear his agreement of her initial assessment, “Thank you, sir."

* * *

"Russell," Ellie breezed by his desk back from the kitchenette, a steaming mug of coffee cradled between her palms.

He sat up straighter in his chair at her approach, his senses on high alert as he clicked a couple of things away and then refocused his attentions to her.

She didn't pry this time, but still shot him a skeptical look.

"Yeah what's up?" He returned, aiming to sound casual.

"Did you see the notification that we received CCTV footage of those three days?" Was she asked, shooting daggers in his direction.

"Oh erm..." He pulled up the appropriate window and acknowledged, "Yeah I got it."

"Good. Do you want to watch through them?"

His eyes widened in surprise at the suggestion, but she merely told him, "It's your lead after all. Did you finish the Ancestry.com inquiries?"

"Yeah, there were two curious responses that I think we should maybe follow up. They were both resistant when I asked them about meeting up directly. I'll forward you the messages," He turned his attention back to his computer, automatically assuming she would pick up this piece of the investigation. 

That was slightly irritating, but Ellie repressed her desire to remark on it. It had been her suggestion, and at least he took the initiative to initially inquire with each of the six individuals that were in contact with Isla Braverman over the jewels. 

She retreated back to her desk, sipping on the hot coffee en route. As soon she sat down in her chair, she felt a vibration on her desk. Glancing over to her desk phone, she saw the face of her cell phone lit up to reveal a text message from Tom. 

_There’s a party at Mike’s tonight. Parents will be there. Can I go?_

It had been a day since Tom’s grounding punishment lifted. Leave it to him to find the latest up and coming social event among his friends, and jump at the chance to join in. 

_Will there be any drinking? How are you getting there?_

She didn’t take issue with the drinking thing. Tom was mostly responsible when it came to that. Her and Joe had sat him down and explained that alcoholism ran in Joe’s family, and that he might be susceptible to the disease. He needed to tread carefully. And as far as Ellie could tell, Tom listened to this request.

One thing she took major issue to was drunk driving. Due to the nature of her work, she saw what it did to victims’ countless times. She reported on so many drunk driving incidents during those early years. And she told Tom many times that if he ever got into a car drunk or got in a car with someone who was, she would kill him herself if he wasn’t already dead.

 _Yeah, but just beer. And I was hoping you could. Granddad doesn’t want to drive at night._ _  
_

Mike lived a good fifteen-minute car ride outside of Broadchurch. Tom met him through playing rugby, and he was a newer friend. Of course, Ellie already made a point to invite Mike and his parents over for dinner. She wouldn’t ever let him go somewhere without meeting the parents first. While the rule came across as slightly embarrassing to Tom at the time, in moments like this, he saw the convenience.

And thank goodness, her father had enough sense to not take both Tom and Fred with him in the dark to the teenage party. He could hardly see to drive in the daylight, let alone at night. At least that was one less fight she'd have to be involved in.  

_What time do you need dropped? Can you see if one of your friends’ parents can? I might be stuck here late. Let me know your plans though before you go!_

She couldn’t rightly abandon her post, especially not while Hardy was still here.

An email popped up in her inbox. Billy sent over one of the conversations. In the body of his email prior to the report, he also slipped in a personal message. _I have to leave in an hour, so I'll just send you all of them._

Ellie sniffed at this and rolled her eyes. She typed her response of: _Fine, but you owe me, Russell. Don't you forget it._ After hitting send, she watched him at this desk, waiting for his reaction as the message came through. 

He clicked on something, read the message and then rolled his eyes and shook his head before his gaze flitted over to her seated form. 

She shot him a pointed look, and saw him visibly exhale.

The email came through with a single word: _Fine._  

Ellie opened up the first conversation and read the name: Amy Johnson. They were hacked into Isla Braverman's account, and could read the correspondence the pair of them had before. From their initial investigation of her, Amy insisted that she had only heard of a couple of black market groups, and only did her research on the web. Upon Ellie's further review of the conversation, it seemed like she might know more than she initially let onto.  

Her phone buzzed again, prompting her to glance down at the screen.

_It starts at 7pm. Will you still be working?_

Ellie sighed, and picked up her phone. She really didn't want to admit that she would be here late tonight. It was a Friday after all, and she planned to be off this weekend to get caught up on housework. Not only that, but between Tom's activities and her working this case, a ride out to Mike's would be their biggest opportunity for socialization yet. She keyed back: _I don’t know, darling. Maybe see about your friends? But don’t go anywhere until you message me first, deal?_

His response was instantaneous. _Deal._ Monosyllabic responses were most common from Tom when texting. 

Her email pinged a couple more times, and she saw Billy's name appear on the screen. And then Ellie glanced up as Billy moved towards her desk.

“Actually I got to head out now," He pulled on his jacket before swinging his bag over the opposite shoulder. "Is that ok?”

"It's been ten minutes," She balked.

"Sorry Miller," His expression nearly pleaded with her. "Look," He gestured toward her, "I'll owe you for next time, alright?"

"The next _two_ times," Ellie regarded him warily.

"Alright fine," Billy waved his hands indifferently. "Just tell Hardy that I'm getting us dinner if he asks," He eyed DI Hardy's office warily.

“Ha," She barked with a false laugh. "Like he’ll believe _that_.”

He didn't stick around to respond. Instead, he ducked his head and hurried out of the bull pen area.  

What had Russell so skiddish all of a sudden? It certainly wasn't like him. Especially not to stick around for the three minutes it took for the lift to arrive. Whatever it was that had him running, she only hoped wouldn't come to bite her in the ass later. But she couldn't focus on it too much now. She had only things to worry about. Like finding a new lead to the stolen jewelry and ensuring Tom had safe transport to his party. 

Ellie looked back on her computer screen, and read Amy Johnson's latest reply.  

_I don’t see why I need to agree to meet with you. I barely knew Isla._

“Likely story,” Ellie snorted. She then went about looking up Amy in their criminal database.

No major hits were returned. That didn’t mean she had some vital information they would want though. Ellie made some notes in her notebook, and then scribbled down her known home and work addresses as well as a phone number. They would definitely be interviewing her again soon.

Minimizing Amy's report, she opened the next email from Russell and read the name Josie Braverman. She was a distant cousin living America, at least, according to her profile. It was unlikely they would be able to interview her in person. A phone call to Interpol would have to do, but at least she managed to maintain contact with one of their agents. She was sure she could put in a request for contact with Josie Braverman before the end of the day. Now whether or not she would have sufficient evidence to actually make contact with her was another matter for another day.

But as Ellie continued reading through the conversation, it was soon made clear that the jewels might have a significant history in America. One that might turn a significant profit.

She began typing in Josie's information and request for Interpol whenever she felt someone walking nearby and then stop short of her desk.  

“Millah, do you have a minute?” Hardy interrupted her.

“Yeah, sure." She typed in the information, and then looked up at him as it was running its searches. "What is it?”

“Got a text from Daisy," He scrolled through his phone, referencing their conversation while he explained. "She has a party tonight, apparently Tom’s also invited but needs a ride.”

“Oh…" Her mouth opened in slight shock at hearing this. "I didn’t realize that Tom and Daisy were friendly," She admitted.

“Well neither did I," Hardy sighed, his eyes betraying the fact that he wasn't particularly fond of this. But then he asked, "You don’t mind if I take him as well?”

“No, of course not. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it," He flipped an indifferent hand. Turning around to the empty desk behind him, he then jerked his thumb in that direction, looking at her. "Russell leave for the day?”

“Uhm…I think he went out on a food run,” She reached up to scratch the back of her neck, trying to seem casual. 

He studied her expression curiously, and she flashed a bright smile to mask the suddenness of his question. “Sure about that?”

“Uh yeah, at least that’s what he said,” She said a bit more confidently. It wasn't a _total_ lie.

“He bringing you dinner then?” Hardy's head tilted back and a cheeky grin started twitching at his mouth.

“Yeah," She shrugged, tearing her eyes away from him, and looking back to her computer screen. When she felt him still hovering by her desk she offered with a shrug, "I told him to just bring whatever. He wasn’t too sure about where he was stopping.”

“Looks like ye might have that romantic dinner after all,” He teased, thinking the whole joke from earlier was even more hilarious now than it was before.

“Oh, shove it," She rolled her eyes, feeling her lips twitch in amusement. Then she thought of a way to definitely rid herself of him. Pointing a finger in his direction she instructed him in her stern, "Mum," voice. "Drive safely and don’t kill my kid.”

“Don’t stay too late, Millah,” He lightly tapped her desk before taking his leave.

Something about the gesture made her smile, and she nodded, “Have a good weekend, sir.”

She returned her attention back to the email regarding Josie Braverman. After a few seconds of pausing to think before typing, she then glanced over towards the lift doors, and noticed Hardy watching her.

He offered her a slight wave, and she smiled and nodded her head once more in return.

She tried to ignore that parental feeling of distress that rippled through her stomach.

 _It will be fine_ , she told herself.

Hardy might have his shortcomings maneuvering through adult relationships, but he was responsible enough when it came to Daisy. And she was a good girl. Tom would be just as safe with Hardy as he would be with his own Mum. Alec Hardy was her partner after all. If she could trust him with her own life, she could surely trust him with her son’s.

It was all the other uncontrollable factors that Ellie didn’t trust. So that maternal tightening in her gut stayed. But she told herself again that all would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful for all of the support this little fic has received so far! I never thought starting a Broadchurch fic once it was finished would go noticed. I am glad to know that isn't the case though and that people really do love these characters as much as I do! Again, thank you all for your kudos and comments, they really do mean a lot. 
> 
> I know the plot is moving at a snail's pace here, but that's kind of how I do things. I can promise you though that the pace will pick up next chapter. We will have more than random Hardy/Miller flirtation and clips of this case Ellie is working on with Billy Russell. I just needed to feel out the characters before I felt comfortable throwing them into another dramatic situation. Hopefully this doesn't feel too drawn out or boring as a result. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy lovelies!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support thus far! This fic is somewhat out of my comfort zone, because it involves certain things that I possess little to zero knowledge of (i.e. police jargon, investigation protocol, etc.). So, I’ve had to map everything out in a little more detail and also conduct some brief research. I’ve already noticed a couple of plots holes and am in process of plugging them up. 
> 
> *The previously mentioned Martin Braverman, being the son-in-law, could not have the same last /surname as Mrs. Braverman and all the other Braverman clan that has been mentioned up until this point. His last name has been changed to Martin Morton. I went back and cleared that up in the previous chapters, but just wanted to make note of it now. 
> 
> **I am really unfamiliar with police procedure and protocol in the US, so yeah, virtually no knowledge of how the Brits do it. I’ve just decided that for purposes of this fic that Ellie is contacting INTERPOL to deal with the international cousin, Josie Braverman. Honestly, I don’t know if that’s accurate, but I feel I received enough information from the Wikipedia page for this to count as being appropriate. I’m sure the organization in structure and in how their processes work is more complicated than what will be presented in this fic. So, my apologies if you have that knowledge and I am woefully inaccurate with these things.
> 
> Also my apologies if this isn't very good and there are mass casualties in typos. I wrote this running on about 4 hours of sleep.

The question weighed heavily on his mind for the last ten minutes of their drive. He heard snippets of conversation to suggest that Mike’s parents weren’t one for setting many boundaries for their only child. Possessing such knowledge almost prevented him from taking Daisy and Tom along, but he knew Miller met with the parents and she was a relatively good judge of character. If she felt they were the sort of lot her son should associate with, he should feel similarly. 

Once the amiable chatter between Daisy and Tom settled down, he figured now would be the time to ask what had been nagging his mind.

“There’ll be no dope at this party, will there?” His eyes flickered back to Tom in the rearview mirror, his face having drained from all coloring.

“Uhm…”

“Dad!” Daisy cried out in horror, “Must you ask…”

“Yes, I must ask!” He affirmed, glancing over at her with the same sort of ire in his voice.

She crossed her arms and huffed rather indignantly, “No, there won’t be.”

“Sure, bout that Dais?”

“Urgh…what d’ye want me to say?! That there will be?!” She grumbled, uncrossing her arms again to gesture for emphasis, “Because what does it matter? I don’t touch the stuff, and you know it!”

“Promise?”

“Yes!” She flung herself back in the seat, her breath coming in shallower now.

Her irritation was plain, but he couldn’t rightly care at the moment. It was his job to nose about in her business. He wouldn’t be a half decent father if he didn’t.

“Tom, you don’t go mucking around with that stuff, do ye?”

“Dad! Seriously?!”

“No sir,” He assured easily before smirking, “Have you met my Mum? She’d strike me dead.”

Alec chuckled in reply to this, “I have no doubt of it. She nearly killed me the other day.”

Tom snorted.

“Will ye be alright for a ride home?” Alec questioned lightly.

 “Yeah, I think so. Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

He hoped Miller wasn’t bent on following his instructions to the letter about obtaining the jewels before the weekend was out. He realized now his reaction had been a bit much and felt a slight pang of guilt for taking it out on her.

She was a good employee, and in this day and age, he would be pressed to find someone half as good as her. The recruits just weren’t like they used to be. Full of self-importance and entitlement. Expecting the world before they had any solid credentials to stand on. If Miller came across as such it was because she’d earned it. She deserved to feel self-important and entitled to the most puzzling cases.

Ironically it seemed this Braverman case might turn into one of these.

It was Daisy’s string of giggles that startled him from his thoughts, and brought him back to reality.  

Clearing his throat, he squared his shoulders and remarked evenly, “I guess I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.”

“We have history together this term,” Tom offered up. “Daisy makes the class bearable."

“Ahh…and what’ve you been learning in history, Tom?” He stared at him through the mirror once more.

“The Rise and Fall of the Russian Empire.”

“Hmmm…interesting is it?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged and answered in a halfhearted sort of way.

Alec’s eyes rested on Tom’s seated figure for a moment. His gaze drifted out the window as if his thoughts were pulling him away from their conversation.

“Daisy? You like the class?” He wondered, watching Tom’s reaction to this question more so than hers.

“Yeah,” She shrugged similarly, “the teacher’s cool.”

Tom’s focus pulled from the window momentarily. His gaze causally swept through the car, not really studying anything with any particular interest.

“Ahh…male? Female?”

“Male,” Daisy arched a curious brow at him. “Are you quite done with the interrogation? I like this song.” She leaned forward and twisted the knob to increase the volume well above the midpoint.

Alec caught her turning around to give Tom a brilliant grin, and a fist bump of sorts. The grin was far to brilliant, reaching her eyes too fast for Alec’s liking. Yet the fraternal nature of the fist bump left him puzzled. Surely, she wouldn’t have done so if she felt _that_ way about him.

Chancing a brief glance in the rearview mirror, Alec noticed Tom smiling a bit to himself, bobbing his head in time with the upbeat pop tune as he looked out the window once more. The last village disappeared, and they were engulfed by the darkness of the countryside.

He didn’t seem too affected by Daisy’s comments or that minute gesture of physical contact. He wasn’t leering at her, nor did he possess any of that nervous tension that tends to exist when a young man is in the presence of a girl he fancies father. And the fact that Daisy opted to sit upfront him with as opposed to in the back with Tom was another sign that their relationship pointed to a more platonic nature.

That unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach subsided a bit, and Alec heard himself audibly sigh. They would be fine. Even if there was dope at the party, they would steer clear of it.

The mood within the vehicle was lighthearted and jovial, in spite of the usual teenage angst Alec had been privy to a few moments ago. They were both humming with an excited energy as they sang along to the radio.

It brought a rare smile to Alec’s lips. They might have lost their innocence with the dramatic events of the last couple of years. But at least they didn’t appear to suffer any major psychological damage as a result.

The wind whipped through Alec’s hair, and he felt a slight evening chill flood the vehicle. Glancing to his left, he noticed Daisy wound the window down, her arm dangling out casually as it made waves through the night air.

The streetlights reappeared, and they were approaching the village of Burstock, where Mike lived. The streets grew narrower, and all traffic was forced to one lane. Alec slowed his speed, but kept watching Daisy’s arm waving out the window, so close to the nearby foliage she could reach out and touch it.  

“Daisy will ye…”

“Dad! Look out!” She shrieked, pulling her arm inside the vehicle and tensing.

A car instantly pulled out in front of them from a side alley. Alec slammed on the breaks, stopping the car just a fraction of an inch prior to it rear ending the red mustang in front of them.

Heart hammering hard inside his chest, he laid on the horn for a few seconds, sending the driver ahead of them into gear.

“Son of a bitch!” Alec exclaimed, feeling the adrenaline surge through him. He squinted, by the car moved away too fast for him to catch a glimpse of the plate.

He then looked to Daisy and then back at Tom, assessing their current situation.

After a few deep breaths, Alec nodded. “Right, all good?”

“Yeah,” Both Daisy and Tom answered quietly, feeling the same slow release of tension throughout their bodies that he did.

Alec released the break and was looking at Tom’s pale face through the rearview mirror. “Tom, not a word of this to yer…”

He’d made it more than halfway through that statement, but only about halfway through the intersection when the truck collided into him.

He felt several cracks and pops on the right side of his body as the metal roughly shoved against him. His hands gripped the wheel tightly, foot jammed on the break as the world spun in a blur. When they stopped hard again, he felt his head break through something cool and sharp, forcing his eyes shut.

He felt tiny shards pierce his vision, and then, without warning, the darkness overcame him.

* * *

 Ellie was pulling into her private drive whenever her phone chimed three times, signaling she received a new email.

_DS Miller,_

_I wanted to inform you that I will be processing your request to get in touch with the appropriate American authorities regarding Josie Braverman. I’ve sent the details of the case as you know it and have instructed them to take her in for questioning per your instructions. I will personally see that you receive the records as soon as they come through._

_In fact, I planned on being in Askerswell next week to visit my sister, Sophie. I can drop the records with you then and offer any additional details that they provide me with. Or I can simply email them to you if it would cause you too much trouble with Joe. Let me know either way how you’d like me to proceed._

_Warmest Regards,_

_Agent Marc Thorton_

She felt something flutter inside of her when she came to the personal part of the email. And she had to reread it over along with his name to ensure she hadn’t imagined it.

It had been nearly twenty years since she last had contact with Marc Thorton. They’d met in training and she had been adamant about it not becoming anything serious. She was absolutely resolute in her decision that what was between them was just a bit of stress relieving fun. She didn’t want to marry yet, and children were most definitely off the table.

And it wasn’t as though Marc was without aspirations of his own. He didn’t want to remain a Broadchurch cop forever. He wanted to use this experience as a stepping stone.

Just as she supposed she used him whenever her nerves were so frazzled, or someone had pissed her off so grossly, she needed to throw someone up against a wall.

Images of him swam through her mind’s eyes. He was tall, so very tall, and painfully gorgeous. His dark hair and olive skin made his crystalline blue eyes shine beautifully. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he was physically fit.

All those times they worked out together in the gym. All those times she watched his muscles flex and release from up close and afar. All those times his strong, calloused hands slid across her skin, guiding her motions for optimum performance.  

She shook her head, stopping her mind from going any further. She suddenly felt flushed and had to exhale deeply to dispel any built-up tension that coiled deep inside her belly.

How reckless she was back then. Nearly wild.

It seemed like she was an entirely different person now. A responsible, hardworking, single mother, who thought more so about other people than herself. She laughed, thinking of how different she’d been and then sighed, grateful for who she was now.

She thought for a moment of how she ought to respond. It would be _interesting_ to see Marc again. Maybe even nice. But then those inevitable questions would arise.

_What happened with Joe? How did you not even know? How are you? And your kids? Wow, Elle, you have kids?_

Shaking her head once more, she did her best to scatter these thoughts into the night. She couldn’t meet him in person. He wasn’t that young, fit girl anymore. Life changed her and worn her away. She was more flesh than taunt muscle, and greyer and more wrinkled than bright and youthful. She was certain he looked the same. Men like him always did.

No, he could just as easily send her the information with the trouble of an awkward reunion. Let him remember her as she once was and fondly as opposed to smashing that fantasy altogether.  

She closed the email app and grabbed her satchel to exit the car. It was the weekend after all, and a rare thing for her to have one off. She would worry about her respond to Marc- _Agent Thorton_ (no sense turning a professional injury into a personal dilemma), later.

Walking up her stone paved walkway, the front of her house was dark save for the bright glow of light flooding her living room. Her curtains were pulled open, and she craned her neck around the front stoop to take in the disorganized state of the front room.

_Lord, what was her father up to?_

The couch was covered by a blanket that stretched out like an awning towards a row of her dining room chairs. Throw pillows and various toys of Fred’s were scattered all over the floor, and the thick cushioned armchair was turned around and blocking one end to this blanket fort her father had created or had enlisted Fred to create alongside him.

Shaking her head, Ellie couldn’t help but smile. At least he was paying attention to his grandson. She supposed she couldn’t fault him for that. Even if it came at the price of cleaning up after a long day of work.

Exhaling deeply, she steeled herself for some irritating quip or remark her father was bound to make that would set her off. Fumbling with the keys under the dim, outdoor lighting, Ellie finally found the correct one, stuck it into the groove of the lock and twisted the knob.

Ceremoniously stepping inside, she practically sang, “Hello all!”

“Mummy! Mummy!” Came Fred’s wildly enthusiastic cheers as he bounded from underneath the fort, flipping a chair over in the process. He collided into her knees, his arms squeezing her tightly.

Her heart surged with warmth, and she rustled his hair before stooping to return the same tight squeeze around his tiny body, “Hello darling.”

Peering into the living room, her father’s face appeared out from the flap of a second blanket that had been thrown across the “roof,” to create some type of doorway.

“Dad?” She nearly chuckled, but also felt that pang of annoyance rising up within her, “What’s all this?”

He propped himself up on his elbows and began dramatically, “We were fighting the Germans after supper! We needed fortification! Eh Fred?” She caught him winking over at his grandson.

“Oh really?” She released Fred back into the room, where he hopped on one of the armchairs used in creating the fort. “Fred, get down now!” She instructed firmly, watching him until he hopped back down onto the floor.

Folding her arms in front of her chest, she regarded him studiously, “And how many whiskey’s have fortified _you_ this evening?”

“Oh Ellie, really now!” He sighed, moving to disrupt the “roof,” and “door,” of the fort. “Do you not trust me at all?” He challenged, gathering the afghans together and tossing them on the couch.

Rubbing her fingers across her brow, she muttered, “I didn’t say that.” She stopped and looked up at him pointedly, “But you avoided the question.”

Ellie stepped forward and felt a plastic crunch beneath her boot. Glancing downward she noticed the top of a foam pellet from Fred’s toy gun pop apart.

“Only one or two,” He assured with a shrug.  

 “Mhm,” She nodded, still eyeing him skeptically, “Well now, Freddie, let’s clean up our ammunition, shall we? And then time for bath, book, and bed. Right?” She knelt down to pick up a few foam pellets, offering them to her son.

“Aww Mum,” His arms hung heavily at his side, hands clenching to fists. He stomped his foot and marched straight up to her, hanging on her arm, “It’s not _that_ late. I’m almost six now…it’s not late for me _at._ _all._ I can stay up later, can’t I?”

He purposefully turned his mouth into a frown, his wide eyes gleaming with a misty longing that made a piece of her heart splinter.

 _Stay strong,_ she reminded herself. _Don’t give in._

Smiling warmly down at him, she placed the toy pellets in his hand, and stroked his hair affectionately while asserting softly, “No, not tonight darling.”

A low whimper from the back of Fred’s throat began to gain momentum. And his eyes were beginning to glaze over as he recently had mastered the art of not blinding to manufacture tears.  

“Fred, come on now,” She knelt down in front of him, squeezing his shoulder. Looking him in the eye, she reminded him with what she hoped to be an enticing smile, “You won’t be able to fight the Germans again with Granddad if you don’t have any bullets.”

“Ok Mummy,” He sighed deeply, hanging his head as he grumpily began picking up the aftermath of their living room battle.

“And don’t look so cross!” Ellie whined, showing her displeasure at his attitude. “Mummy wants to hear all about your day with Granddad. And I can’t if you’re cross with me, can I?” She stood and watched him for a few seconds. Slowly she felt his frustration unravel as he threw each toy in the chest wedged between the television and the end table.

She supposed him taking it out on the toys was better than taking it out on her.

Ellie’s Dad caught her eye and followed her back out into the hall as she deposited her bag along with her shoes.

“Hard day?” He reached for her, proffering a hug she didn’t know she needed.

Leaning into his embrace, she muttered over his shoulder, “Busier than I expected. Sorry I’m so late again.”

They pulled apart, and she began shrugging out of her blazer.

“DI Hardy came to collect Tom.”

“Yeah, he told me,” She slung her jacket over the bannister in the corridor.

“He’s working you hard, love.”

She saw the worry through his eyes, and she reached out to touch his arm reassuringly. “He’s not really, Dad. It’s my choice to work as hard as I do.”

Ellie passed by him, in search of what might be waiting her in the kitchen.

“Fred eat?” She looked over her shoulder to find her father hovering in the doorway.

He inclined his head, “Spaghetti and meatballs. There’s a plate in the microwave for ye.”

“Thanks,” She moved towards it resting on the counter and hit a few buttons. It revved to life once more.

“His daughter’s quite the looker, DI Hardy’s is.”

And there it was. Her stomach turned at the thought, and Ellie moaned, “Oh Dad! Don’t be sick!” She shot him a disgusted look.

Really, how could he think that let alone say it out loud?

He blinked back at her, horror flooding his eyes, “I mean for Tom!”

“I doubt very much _that’s_ on his mind,” Her brow lifted for emphasis as the timer on the microwave signaled its completion. She popped the door open and felt the meal before closing the door and adding a minute to it. Leaning her back against the counter she informed him with a shrug, “He seemed keen on getting to the party on time is all.”

“He’s a sixteen-year-old boy. It ain’t natural if he doesn’t at least think about it.”

“Well maybe he’s not interested in girl’s, Dad. Did ye ever think of that?”

“Don’t even…”

“Did he say when he’d need to be home?” She interrupted airily, cocking her head to one side. She wasn't interested in getting into it with him when Fred could become so easily wound up. “I tried texting an hour ago. Usually that thing’s glued to his hand.”

She fished her phone out of her front trouser pocket, clicking it to life once more.

No new notifications, just her background of the boys. It made her smile, the big grins on their faces. Tom held Fred round his back, Fred's face scrunched up in hysterical laughter. He'd been so amused that his big brother would pick him up in such a fashion. But Tom always had a soft spot for him, which in turn warmed Ellie with a sort of motherly pride only her kind knew. 

“Well he has a curfew, yeah?” Her Dad chastised with a disapproving curve to his mouth.

She didn’t need him to remind her that he thought eleven-thirty was entirely too late for a boy of Tom’s age.

“I suppose I’ll just work off of that,” She remarked as the microwave finished once more. Setting her phone down on the countertop, she pulled a fork out of the nearby drawer and began mixing together the noodles on her plate.

Ellie twirled some pasta on the fork and took a tentative bite. The spaghetti was tender, and the sauce tasted as it should. Her father’s cooking was improving.

“Why not take a seat, love?” He gestured towards the table, maneuvering around in the opposite direction he anticipated her to.

Picking up her plate and the phone, Ellie settled in at the opposite end as him. “’ts good, Da,” She complimented lightly.

“Now I know I’m not as good as yer mother was but…” His voice trailed off as a sudden vibration startled both of them.

Ellie looked down to her right and noticed her mobile ring to life. The lit-up screen displayed Tom’s name. She chuckled with a shrug, “Oh, what d’ye know? It’s Tom.”

Her father nodded, watching her with his hands folded. 

“I hope he’s not calling to tell me he needs me to get him now,” She made a pained expression.

"Hey Elle, ask him if he's gotten anywhere with the Hardy girl," Her father hissed and then chortled amusedly to himself.  

"What?" Her face crumpled up in disgust, "No!"

Pressing the accept button, Ellie put on her best naturally maternal voice, “Hello Tom, what do you need, love?”

She was met with the deep, guttural sound of a throat clearing. This was followed by a male voice octave’s deeper than her son’s, “Erm…am I speaking to Mrs. Miller?”

“Yes,” She felt her blood run cold. Swallowing back whatever fear seized her, Ellie managed to ask, “Who’s this?”

“This is Dr. Baum from St. Margaret’s Hospital in Burstock.”

Burstock. Burstock. She knew the name of that village. How did she know that name? And then…

Mike’s family lived in Burstock. Tom was headed to Mike’s party.

“I believe your son is Tom Miller,” The doctor stated.

Her heart dropped, “Y-yes?”

“He’s ok right now, but we think you should make your way to the hospital, Mrs. Miller.” He paused but soon continued on in his even tone that was required for his profession when these circumstances arose. “There’s been an accident.”

Ellie felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her, and she thought she might be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, how awful am I to end it like this? But don't worry. I have a plan. And it doesn't involve any major character deaths that I can promise ;) So just hang tight friends, I promise this won't be painful forever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! I appreciate everything in spite of last chapter. So glad no one came at me with flaming torches. ;) Anyway, I do try to clear some things up in this chapter while also setting the tone for what's to come. If you spot any glaring typos or misuse of words, let me know. I am terrible at revising. Anyway, thank you all for your interest! I hope I can continue to do these characters justice.

It was amazing that she didn’t cause an accident on her way to hospital. Everything outside of the road ahead of her flashed by in a hazy blur. Her focus narrowed in like a tunnel, and she only computed the necessary landmarks and signage that directed her to St. Margaret’s.

Even as she hurled questions to the nurses assigned to the trauma station in the center of the hospital wing, she didn’t commit names or details of faces or personalities to memory. All she needed and all that she processed at present was any and all information regarding Tom.

_A fractured pelvis. Compound break in his right arm. And at least four broken ribs._

That was the based information Dr. Baum presented her with. And hearing each one of these injuries caused her heart to twist painfully and her stomach to knot anxiously, as if the damage inflicted upon her son had also been inflicted upon her.

Dr. Baum escorted her to Tom’s hospital room, which was just off the main emergency wing.

The squeal of gurney wheels and sharp barking of medical terminology being tossed about flittered over Ellie. She took notice of the rasps and beeps of life saving equipment and felt another painful pang surge through the next beat of her heart.

She turned her head for a split second as one EMT practically rode atop the gurney, his hand stuck inside the patient, undoubtedly plugging some type of hole that would have been gushing if his quick thinking hadn’t taken over.

Her jaw clenched, and hands balled into fists as the man rallied off the list of injuries to the doctor who appeared by his side. His hair was short, nearly buzzed to his skull, and he was of slender build. A sort of rage bubbled inside of her gut. She didn’t even know the man and yet she hated him. Hated him for what he reminded her of. His self-assurance and almost near arrogance in riding in on that gurney, awaiting praise for his life saving efforts. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she half hoped he would look up at her, catching the darts of loathing she aimed at him.

Dr. Baum touched her arm, startling her out of her anger fueled reverie. And with a single arm raised he gestured back to the room where Tom lay.

With his strong dark features, there was a warmth that rose to his eyes. A flicker of a flame that rarely lit for patient’s family members but made certain exceptions whenever the circumstances required it. She could tell this from the worn lines of his face, and the tiredness that hid behind his chocolate colored eyes. She saw this many times in her own line of work.

Ellie smiled rather appreciative of his painstaking efforts to be genial towards her. Her eyes lowered in mute apology. Her cheeks flushed with a shameful heat at having been caught glowering at a complete stranger. Especially at a time like this.

She couldn’t confront those ghosts now. She needed to confront the aftermath of the car crash, and with it, Tom’s injuries.

Seeing him nearly as white as the sheets he lay on, took her breath away. His hair was matted and there was a sheen about his forehead that suggested he was sweating. His eyes were closed, and his cracked lips were rounded in a circular fashion. As Ellie tentatively drew closer to his bedside, she could hear the forced air coming in and out of his mouth.

She smiled a bit at this, Tom always had been what they called a mouth breather.  It was a little piece of normalcy that restored some hope inside of her.

There was an IV line hooked up to his left arm, and with it assorted beeping machines set up beside him. At least their high-pitched sounds appeared to be operating evenly, suggesting there was a great level of stability. His other arm was folded against his chest in a sling, and his right leg was wrapped and elevated by some sort of foam pillow. She noticed there was a bulge surrounding his upper thigh, and wondered if it had anything at all to do with the fractured pelvis Dr. Baum spoke of.

“Is he…?” She whirled around to find the doctor standing at the foot of his bed.

“We had to give him something to calm him down. He was in shock at everything that had happened. And he was adamant about seeing that his friend and the driver were well looked after.”

She stared him, her eyes widening in shock at this revelation.

“It’s quite common in the aftermath of something so traumatic.”

She looked once more to her son’s face, twitching with sleep every now and again. Ellie stretched out her hand and gently stroked his tussled hair. Inhaling sharply, she then leaned forward and lightly kissed his temple.

“Mum’s here now, darling,” She murmured quietly, hoping there was a way for him to hear her without it disturbing his rest.

Her hand remained by his head as she turned to ask the doctor, “How long will be out?”

Dr. Baum shrugged, but then offered expertly, “Usually it’s no more than several hours. His body is working to heal the parts it can right now. I find it best to let the patients sleep for as long as they require. While ensuring it poses no harm to them, of course.”

She nodded, her eyes sweeping over her son’s slumbering form once more.

“Mrs. Miller, I have other patients,” Dr. Baum informed her with a hesitant air.

“Yes of course,” She didn’t take her gaze off of Tom this time.

“I can ask one of the nurses to make up a cot for you…” He proposed uncertainly to which she glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded.

“That would be much appreciated thank you.” Ellie stood up straighter and took a step away from Tom’s bed. “Doctor before you go,” Extending her hand, she waved to gather Dr. Baum’s attention, “might you…that is, do you have any indication of what…” She paused, looked back at her son before lowering her voice an octave, “…Tom’s recovery will be like?” Her brow arched hopefully, awaiting answers to the millions of questions that now swirled around inside of her.

“Well…” Dr. Baum sighed, his hands disappearing into the pockets of his lab coat. “In the case of broken ribs, we just wait for them to mend themselves. Based on Tom’s scans, it doesn’t appear they pose any danger to causing additional internal damage.”

He paused a moment, waiting for her to process the information. She nodded, “And the injury to his pelvis?”

“Based on the scans it appears to be a hairline fracture. It should heal itself as well. But I’m afraid he’ll be bedridden for at least two weeks. And then we’ll gingerly reintroduce weight to it. The physical therapist can give you more information on that process,” He turned to leave.

“And his arm?” Ellie took a determined step towards him.

Dr. Baum went on to explain in his calming tone, “I recommend surgery. His humerus broke at the elbow joint. It was a compound break, so the bone broke the skin. But I set it and dressed best I can for now. We can talk about it more whenever we get to that point though.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

“I’ll see about that cot for you, Mrs. Miller,” He flashed another smile, and moved to depart from the room.

And then the thought occurred to Ellie, prompting her to steal his attentions once more in the doorway of Tom’s room. “Sorry…were there others in the car?”

Dr. Baum let out a hefty sigh, bringing his arms out to the side in a shrug, “Mrs. Miller, I cannot discuss that with you.”

“Because if there were and they’re who I think they are…” Her voice broke off a bit shakily here, but she swallowed to gain resolve. “I care about them a great deal,” She affirmed with a bob of her head. Bringing her hands up in front of her she explained, “Look you don’t even have to say anything. Just nod or shake your head after this question.”

“Mrs. Miller…” He started to reprimand her.

“There was a man, round my age?” She interrupted, ignoring his frustrated expression and tone. “He was the driver?”

The doctor studied her for a moment, weighing his options to respond to her. She opened her mouth to go on, and he relented with another deep exhalation and a slight inclination of his head.

Her heart jumped at this realization. It took everything in her not to instantly ask about Hardy’s condition. She knew he wouldn’t part with that information.

Steeling herself, she went on in an evenly toned voice, “Which means there was a girl around Tom’s age in the car. His daughter. And I know for a fact that they are the only family that the other one has.”

Dr. Baum piped up, “As far as I know that’s not what we’ve discovered.”

“Tess?” She countered, tossing her head back and folding her arms in front of her, “His ex-wife. Her mother. Have you made contact then? Because as far as I know, she hasn't been around in months. _They_  haven't even heard from her!” She arched a questioning brow, urging him to offer up more.        

"I really can't speak to that,” He shook his head and then shrugged, slowly backing away towards the nurse’s station. “Now if you'll excuse me, Mrs. Miller. I need to see to my other patients.”  

* * *

 

One phone call updating her father and then bidding Fred a loving goodnight later, all Ellie could do was wait. Seated next to Tom’s bedside, she watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, the throaty rattling that filled the air as he breathed through his mouth. The beep of the machines attached to him was as steady as the ticking of a clock. She supposed that was a good sign.

It should have calmed her nerves, but Ellie found they were still bouncing around inside her lower abdomen. Her thoughts not only were on Tom’s condition, but the uncertainty that lay with Alec and Daisy Hardy; especially with Daisy.

She couldn’t imagine what would happen to her boy’s if something dreadful like this impacted her. Not only that, but was she alone? Or was Alec sitting by her bedside as she was Tom’s?

Those were the thoughts that weighed her down in addition to how they would manage Tom’s recovery.

She would have to take leave of some kind. They had programs of course, but her entire salary wouldn’t be guaranteed for the length of time that was probably required for Tom’s overall recovery. She would just have to deal with that later.

 _One step at a time,_ she assured herself taking a deep breath.

"Hello in here!” Boomed a cheery voice that was attached to an extremely large woman in mint green scrubs.

Ellie jumped in her chair, clutching her chest and then muttering, “My God.”  

“Oh, sorry,” She immediately adjusted her tone to conversational level as she took notice of her surroundings. Offering a bashful smile, her round cheeks lifted until they reached her dark green and gold eyes as she admitted, “I didn't realize the patient was still asleep. Dr. Baum said you might need a cot?” She looked to Ellie, stepping deeper into the room and gesturing towards the loveseat pushed against the backwall.

“Yes, that would be wonderful,” Ellie managed a tight smile, watching the woman pull off the cushions from the loveseat.

“I'm Katrina by the way,” She added, pulling out the bed inside, and adjusting the support bars underneath. Glancing back at Ellie she informed her, “I'll be working on night's while Tom's here."

"Nice to meet you, I’m Ellie. Tom's Mum."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Miller. Not under these circumstances of course, but what can you do?” She reached in the cabinets overhead and began pulling out the standard issue sheets and blanket. “At least your lad seems like a fighter. Always a good sign."

Not knowing what else to say, Ellie merely nodded before adding, "Thank you."

She started humming some unknown tune as she tucked the sheets under the bed. Ellie watched her, and they sat in compatible silence. Just from her movements, Ellie deduced Katrina to be a strong, yet compassionate woman. It wasn’t surprising that she ended up in such a profession where she could use both of these traits so readily.

As she fluffed the pillows and neatly made the top coverlet, Ellie couldn’t help but wonder just how far Katrina’s compassion went. It surely wouldn’t hurt to figure it out should the opportunity present itself.   

"Please let me know if there's anything else you need,” Katrina assured her with a pleasant smile as she straightened up.

Ellie’s heart quickened. Now was her moment.

"Actually...” She rose and then slowly made her way towards the woman, “…there might be something. The other two that were in the car with Tom..."

"Oh, I'm sorry,” Katrina’s eyes widened in apology, and she shook her head, “I can't. I could lose my job, if I did." Her mouth stretched into a strained smile, one that told Ellie she felt very badly for having to deliver this hospital standard line.

"I understand,” Ellie remarked with a deflated air. Softening her tone, she went on, “But you see, the driver. I know him. His name is Alec Hardy."

"How is it that you, _know him_?"

"He's..." She trailed off, giving it some thought, "...he's my partner."

It was not entirely a lie, but not entirely detailed either. Ellie only hoped she looked upset enough for the woman to believe it.   

"Oh!” Katrina’s face lit with surprise. Blinking back confusion, she stammered a bit uncertainly, “Well I...sorry...he didn't mention...not that he can...that is..."

"Why? What's wrong with him?" Her eyes widened, and she felt her insides churn anxiously.

Katrina let out a hefty sigh, "He came to us unconscious. There was a lot of swelling in his brain, and then after an initial scan...they found bleeding. It was decided he needed immediate surgery. He's with our neurosurgeon, Dr. Bedini, now."

"Oh God..." She sunk down onto the cot, "...oh God...will he...will he be alright?" She looked back up to the woman, feeling her stomach turn once more.

"I cannot say. It's not my area of expertise,” Katrina squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

Ellie felt her head spin. First his heart, and now his brain. It was all too much. And then she realized perhaps no one else had knowledge of this. In the chaos, would they not know something that could in fact save his life.

“He has a preexisting heart condition,” She blurted out and then bit down on her bottom lip.

Katrina patted her shoulder, “His daughter mentioned it.”

"And his daughter? Daisy?" Ellie wondered, “How is she?”

"I…I think her injuries were minor. Whiplash...bruised ribs...and a dislocated shoulder."

Her concern poured forth now like a water main break that could only be stifled with emergency crews. "Might I see her? I'm sure she's scared. A friendly face might...I dunno...make it easier somehow?"

"I'll…have to ask her. But _that_ is something I can do." She smiled down at her warmly, and Ellie clasped her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Thank you, Katrina. That means a lot."

* * *

 

Sleep didn’t come to her easily. She strained her ears throughout the night, waiting to hear the familiar catch and rattle of Tom’s breathing. Anytime she didn’t hear it, or it became temporarily interrupted, her eyes shot open and she held her breath.

He would be alright, she assured herself over and over again.

They were the same words her father used to calm her down hours ago when she called to offer an update. And at the same time, she told Fred with heavy emotions laced through her words that she loved him so much more than chocolate. He was to be a good boy and do as Granddad said until she came home.

He would be a good boy, she assured herself. He was a good boy. A sweet boy whose innocence somehow remained intact.

Her eyes welled with tears at the thought of him losing it somehow in this. Of him seeing his big brother, whom he knew to be strong and his protector, broken now. She couldn’t know his reaction or its aftereffects, but it was enough to make her feel the heavy weight of guilt.

She rolled over, tugging the thin, scratchy wool blanket up over her head. Her face pressed into the lumpy pillow and she sniffed hard.

It would be alright. They would survive this like everything else. It would be alright.

The knot in her throat tightened, and she felt the damn holding back the waters slowly give way to the pressure building inside.

That is what it took for the heaviness of fatigue to finally reach her and pull her under.

* * *

 

His face contorted with pain each time he shifted in the bed. Her heart mirrored each flinch, and Ellie found herself offering nonsensical words of reassurance.

“You’ll be fine, darling. Just fine. I promise.”

He regarded her skeptically, the exhaustion clouding his vision, his mouth turned downward into a jagged frown.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you will be. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mum,” He remarked thickly, his face turning to the other side of his pillow.

Ellie wasn’t sure what hurt more, the fact that he was in unsurmountable pain or that he recoiled at every stroke or kind word she proffered. Setting aside her own pride, she swallowed and then her tone shifted to possess a stern edge.

“Do you need me to call the doctor? Any questions about the surgery?”

“No.”

“Ok. Do you want me to go?”

He shrugged with his good arm before turning his face to the ceiling once more, “I guess not.”

“Ok.”

They went on like this for the next half hour, until he was being wheeled away to the operating room.

Then she saw the abject terror stretch across his face, his hand tightening onto hers. Ellie practically had to jog to keep up with the staff.

“It’ll be alright, Tom,” She lifted their hands joined together, kissing the back of his. “I love you.”

“More than chocolate?” He hoped, his brow peaking.

“So much more than chocolate,” She gushed, feeling his grip slowly slip through hers as he passed through the double doors.

“You did good, Mum,” Marsha, the OR nurse patted her shoulder.

She was kindly like Katrina and answered more of her questions than Dr. Baum seemed willing to. Her eyes crinkled behind her surgical mask, and Ellie felt grateful for her dark brown eyes that filled with a sugary warmth so easily.

“We’ll take it from here. He’s in good hands,” She assured. “Go see the girl now, she needs you.”

Ellie nodded, waiting until Marsha disappeared through the doors and down the narrow corridor that lead to the operating rooms.

She supposed she should be grateful for whatever magic Katrina and Marsha worked to give her access to Daisy. They informed Ellie that her earlier suspicions were correct. The girl was in dire straits waiting on the outcome of her father’s surgery, not knowing where her mother was. She needed someone familiar. Somehow that person ended up being here.

Recalling the bay number, the nurses had given her, Ellie cautiously peeked around the hanging curtain in the middle of the floor.

Her injuries weren’t sufficient enough to warrant a proper hospital room. According to Katrina, she would be out within a few days’ time. They were really just waiting on her brain scans, to ensure there weren’t any signs related to a concussion.

“Daisy?” Ellie called out softly, prompting the blonde girl to turn her head.

There was a gash along her forehead, and a nasty, purplish bruise beneath her left eye. Her lip was also cut at one corner.

But in spite of these injuries there was a light of recognition, followed by relief upon setting her eyes on Ellie.

“Mrs. Miller,” She extended her hand, wincing slightly as she did.

“Oh dear,” Ellie clasped her hand, gingerly lowering her arm back to her side. “You must take now, yeah?” She tried a reassuring smile, but it felt more sympathetic than anything else.

“It’s good to see you,” Her bottom lip trembled, and she tried her hardest to fuse her mouth shut.

“You too, dear.” Ellie patted her hand. “You feeling alright? All things considered?”

She nodded but didn’t elaborate. Instead her focus shifted, “How’s Tom? They wouldn’t tell me anything. Not even the nurse…” She inhaled sharply again, crying out a bit from the overexcitement that also placed some considerable pressure on her broken ribs.

“It’s alright, Daisy. Tom is alright. He’s in surgery now to fix his arm, but he’s alright,” She studied her worrisome expression for several seconds before looking away and searching for a chair to pull up beside the bed. Once she managed it, she stroked the girl’s hand once more, “You must try to stay calm. I know it’s really hard to. But you need to get better too.”   

She nodded and lowered her gaze to her lap.

“Do you remember anything?” Ellie wondered, having already tried to ask Tom this with little success.

“Just before it happened, there was another car. A red one. Some fancy brand that men probably drool over.” She rolled her eyes and offered a brief chuckle at this before going on. “It pulled out right in front of us. I yelled at Dad to stop, and he did. Just barely missed it. Then he was joking with Tom…” Her voice broke, the tremor in her lower lip more prevalent now. She glanced over at Ellie, the tears now spilling down her cheeks, “…he said, ‘don’t tell yer Mum about this…and then…then we were hit.” She shook her head and sniffled again, causing her to whimper again.

“Oh, Daisy, I’m sorry.” Ellie squeezed the girls hand between hers, shaking her head and murmuring kindly, “I’m so sorry.”

“What’s going to happen to me if…? I’m not legally an adult yet, ye know? Will they place me in some shit care…?”

“Daisy no.” Ellie reached up to grab her face, “No, you cannot think like that. Ok?” She felt the knot in her throat reappearing, her vision blurring at the edges like it had last night. Clearing her throat, she found the firmest tone she could muster, “He’s not done for yet. And he won’t be. He’ll pull through this.” She bobbed her head reassuringly before deciding in an effort to lighten the mood, “Or I’ll kill him myself.”

They both sniffled in amusement at this.

Daisy stared at her for several seconds, “You’ve always been so kind to us.”

Brushing away a stray tear, Ellie lowered her hand and her head. “Kindness is in short supply these days.”

“Mrs. Miller?”

Ellie looked back up at the girl, awaiting further comment.

“Do you hate my Dad? For doing this?”

It struck her as a blow to hear this. Ellie exhaled swiftly and shook her head slowly, “Oh no. Of course, I don’t. I don’t blame any of you for this. It wasn't...none of you caused this.”

But the more Ellie thought about it, she could think of one person to blame. And after taking quick inventory of the injuries that Hardy, Daisy, and Tom incurred as a result of the crash, she knew that person would pay. She would see to it the minute she discovered who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really did try to resolve as much of the cliffhanger as I possibly could in this one. I know we still don't know how Hardy is doing, but I hope this will satisfy everyone in the meantime. I'm also really trying not to make this fic 800 chapters, and it really has the potential to be that LOL. I haven't mastered the art of editing yet, so my apologies if this chapter feels too detailed or too long. Again, I have limited medical knowledge of things, and am doing as much research as I can without it becoming too heavy with that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while since I updated this fic. But I feel compelled to finish this one. Hopefully it hasn't been SO long since I updated that you can't remember what the story was about. But whether you have been faithfully following this story since its conception or you are just joining us, I hope you're enjoying the ride. :)

The next forty-eight hours passed by in a slow haze for Ellie Miller. The frantic flurry that once occupied the hours preceding the accident slowly dwindle by. She lost the buzz from the adrenaline, the boost from her numerous cups of coffee, and felt a pounding ache begin to thump inside her head. She needed sleep, something decent to eat, and a long, uninterrupted hot shower. All of which, seemed to be outside her reach. 

She sat, half asleep, half awake in the waiting room chair, a lukewarm Styrofoam cup of no longer drinkable coffee in between her hands. Her head rested against the wall, and she felt her eyelids droop as the ticking of the clock on the far wall lulled her into a drowsy sleep. 

Tom's surgery had been successful. He would require some outpatient care once his pelvis healed enough for him to be moved to a facility. But as soon as he could walk again and perform basic functions, he would be released home. All would be normal then, she assured herself. Or as normal as their new circumstances would allow. She'd just received the first hospital bill, and her dreams of taking sabbatical were dashed when she saw the final numbers. So much for equal, universal coverage. 

She made the appropriate calls to her superior, who told her they'd give her the next two weeks with pay if she agreed to return by the end of the month. It was likely the best offer she would get, so Ellie jumped at it. A few members from the precinct arrived to offer their kind regards towards Tom and Hardy. However, no one had been into see Hardy since his condition did not allow for casual visitors. 

Ellie was on the verge of drifting off into an unsatisfying nap once more when she heard a shrill cry coming from further down the corridor. 

“Elle! Oh my god!”

Startled to life, the cup bounced off the floor, spilling coffee dregs along the tile in a brown river. 

"Oh shit," Ellie murmured, rifling through her nearby handbag for an extra napkin or wet wipe to wipe up the mess.

"Sorry," Beth appeared apologetically, opening the bag on her arm, doing the same. She found a napkin first and then knelt down to mop up the mess. "I should have been more careful but...this whole thing...Elle," She glanced up, folding the napkin over to absorb the moisture, "why didn't you call me?"

Letting out a sigh, Ellie blinked a few times, feeling the pressure inside her head build. "I don't know Beth I...it all happened so fast," She shrugged, swallowing back the lump that formed in the back of her throat as she stood to reach the same height as her friend.

Beth tossed the napkin into a waste basket before pulling her close into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry this happened," She muttered softly. 

When combined with the mounting stress that built up over the last couple of days Beth's kind words and reassuring embrace were enough for Ellie to feel her emotions bubble over. Her throat cracked and eyes burned, and she whispered back in a jagged voice, "I'm so tired, Beth. So tired."

Beth tightened her arms around her. “Oh Elle…it's alright. You're doing alright."

“Thanks,” Was all Ellie could trust herself to manage in that moment as she buried her face into Beth’s shoulder.

She felt Beth's hand cup the base of her skull, stroking her hair reassuringly. “He's ok though?” 

Ellie nodded, muttering something that sounded like a _"yes...in recovery."_

Beth pulled away, holding onto her shoulders as if to appraise her friend's physical state.

“I needed a break,” Ellie explained with a half-hearted wave of her hand. “It’s been hours...maybe even days...since he came out of surgery and…” Her voice broke off, and she sniffled back the tears, wiping at her eyes. 

"Yeah," Beth nodded, squeezing her shoulder once more, "yeah, it's Monday now."

She hardly noticed. All of her days were starting to blend together. The only thing that seemed to really register with her was the present situation. The status of everyone involved in the accident, and what would happen to them. The doctors measured their time vaguely in days they will be released, in weeks they'll regain this basic motor function, in months things will be normal again. That was how Ellie had begun to measure her time here in the hospital; based on Tom and Daisy's recovery.

"They're releasing Daisy today..." Her words fell away as the building flood inside of her drowned them out. The gravity of their meaning sent her mind whirling like a tornado.

Hardy was still unconscious. Daisy remained a minor. She'd made the girl a promise.

"I-I don't know what I'm going to do Beth," Ellie lamented out of pure exasperation. "I don't think I can take her. Not with Tom and Fred and my Dad. And I promised her...I promised her, she wouldn't end up...she wouldn't end up in..." With each passing thought she spoke out loud, her tone raised, her throat constricted. She was practically blubbering now, and it was becoming too much.

"Elle, oh my God, Elle," Beth's brow furrowed, her eyes slanting sympathetically. She pulled Ellie's nearly shaking form into her body, rubbing slow circles across her back as she choked on her sobs. "Don't worry about that...you just breathe...just breathe for now, ok? I'll help you figure it out. We'll figure this all out together. Ok?"

When Ellie's breathing returned to a relatively normally rate, their arms slowly fell away. Ellie immediately looked downward, wiping away the residual tears. Beth dug back into her purse again, searching for a tissue before passing it to her friend. She squeezed Ellie's shoulder, and guided her back down into her chair, settling down beside her. "Look, I have some connections," She began in a more even kilter tone. "I can see if Daisy can stay with Chloe and I for a bit. Alright?"

Ellie blew her nose and nodded.

It had been exhausting sitting in that room while Tom came in and out of consciousness for the last several hours. When he came to it, he was in immense pain, causing him to cry out and her to reprimand the nurses for not adequately being on hand for managing his pain. The not so far away memories of the last several hours of their time here prompted another stitch inside of her chest.

And then there was Fred. He was probably terrified. God only knew what sort of information her father was relaying to him from the several phone conversations she'd had with him. She missed his sweet presence so terribly. Those beautifully dimpled cheeks and those round, brown eyes as sweet as chocolates. His soft, sandy brown hair always smelled of strawberries from his shampoo. And he loved being cuddled still; loved his mother's safe embrace with each passing day. She missed all of it. And she was sure he missed her and missed Tom. He was probably so confused as to why they hadn't returned yet.  

It all was enough to make Ellie whimper, “I’m so tired, Beth. I know that’s a terrible thing to admit but…”

“Hey,” Beth interjected swiftly, rubbing her upper back. She cocked her head to one side, and managed a kind smile, “You’re doing the best that you can. All on your own. It’s ok to admit you’re only human.”

“I couldn’t find Daisy in Emergency,” Chloe suddenly appeared by Beth’s side, looking between both women.

Ellie sniffled, wiping at the corners of her eyes and swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah…Alec uh, he made it out of surgery. But he’s uh…he’s in the ICU. They took her to see him.”

Beth whipped her ponytail over her shoulder, shooting a questioning look in Ellie's direction, "The news story mentioned the driver was in critical condition...do you know any more?"

"Just that his brain was bleeding and swollen, so he needed immediate surgery."

"Just?" Chloe marveled at Ellie's choice of words.

"Chloe," Beth reprimanded, shooting her daughter a knowing look.

"Yeah I...I guess I haven't had much time to process what that means exactly," Ellie rambled unevenly. Her hands twisted the used tissue, eyes focusing into the empty space before them. 

Beth studied her friend for several seconds, and decided, "Right. Well Elle, I think you need to head home for a bit."

"What?!" This suggestion shocked Ellie and she jumped beneath Beth's arm that was still slung over her shoulders. "No, I...Beth I...no I can't," She shook her head, eyes narrowing. "Tom needs me."

"Exactly," She agreed with a nod. "He needs a well rested, well fed mother who can care for him."

"But I can't just leave..."

"Chloe and I will still a while," She interrupted, shooting a look over at her daughter that suggested she could chime in at any time.

"Yeah, he's allowed visitor's now right?" Chloe smiled, taking a step forward.

"Yes, but I can't ask you both to..."

"You're not asking," Beth insisted. "And neither am I. You call your Dad, tell him to take Fred out of the house for the day, and you take a hot shower, eat an actual meal and have a lie down, yeah? And I don't want to see you back here until well after seven this evening, you hear?"

Ellie felt the pressure build behind her eyes again, but instead of from exhaustion and fear, it was gratitude that brought on these tears. 

* * *

After a light meal, a shower, and a lay down. Ellie returned to the hospital later in the afternoon with her Dad and Fred in tow. Fred clung to her side in this foreign environment. Her father, after being told off for his caustic remarks, remained surprisingly stoic as Ellie knelt down in front of her youngest son.

“Fred, I want to tell you that Tom might look or act a bit different than what you’re used to," She took his hands in hers, watching his eyes wide and fearful. She continued on softly, even managing a small smile, "But he’s still your big brother. He was just in an accident."

Her son's expression remained unchanged. Ellie racked her brain with another way to approach this situation. 

Chewing on her bottom lip, it suddenly dawned on her. "You remember that one time when you play with your cars and they crashed into one another, and the steering wheel of one popped off?”

“Yeah,” He murmured softly.

“Well...something like that happened to Tom."

“His head popped off?” His soft brown eyes widened with terror.

“No! No, no, no," Ellie coaxed, squeezing his small hands firmly, a sign of assurance. "No his head is quite in tact with the rest of his body."

Fred exhaled deeply, which prompted Ellie to flash a quick smile in his direction.

"But..." She interjected with a more serious tone, "...he did break a few bones. So, he might be a bit grumpier than usual. And he can’t move around like he usually can either. But he’s still your big brother, and he still loves you very much, ok?” She winked at him, cracking a warm smile full of mock confidence. 

Fred smiled back and looked down between them, “Ok, Mum."

“Alright,” She ruffled his hair, and stood back up to catch the eye of her father who nodded his approval and winked at her similarly. 

Leading the charge to Tom's room, Ellie was startled to a halt when she realized that Tom was no longer alone. And it wasn't Daisy or Beth that were keeping company with him.  

A police officer stood by his bedside, his notepad open, taking notes. Ellie’s eyes met Tom’s and then she swiftly moved towards the officer, who just as swiftly flipped his notebook shut. “Hello, I’m Tom’s Mum. DS Ellie Miller, Broadchurch Police out of Wessex.”

“DS Frank Trubo of Burstock Police Department," He rattled off just as readily. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he extended a hand for her to shake, "Nice to meet you Mrs. Miller."

Ellie's grip tightened on Fred's and she eyed DS Trubo warily. She didn't make a move to return the gesture, but moved in between him and Tom's bedside. 

Sensing the tension mounting in the air, DS Trubo lowered his hand without comment. She grinned sheepishly and tossed his hand around casually while explaining, "I was just asking your son if he remember anything from last night’s accident.”

“Without my consent?" She arched a challenging brow. "You know he is underage. And any answers he gave to you might not be admissible in court.”

He held his hands up in the air, “I was just doing my job, Mrs. Miller.”

"Come now love," Her Dad piped up, "he was just leaving I'm sure. Isn't that right?"

He may be an older man, but David Barrett, was a good head taller than DS Trubo. And much thicker. The younger man may have skilled arms training, but under direct scrutiny, he seemed more than willing to cave. 

“Of course," He swallowed, flashing an amiable smile at Ellie and then David. "I have all I need.”

David followed him to the door, and Ellie tracked them both with her steely gaze. Once the detective was out of earshot, she whriled around to whisper to Tom, her eyes hardening with fear. “What did he ask you?”

“Just like he said,” Tom shrugged, that usual light in his eyes diminished, “he wanted to know if I remembered anything.”

“And do you?” She probed. 

“I’m tired, Mum," He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "I don’t want to talk about it.”

The doctors told her this might happen. That he might push down his feelings towards the crash in order to cope with the magnitude of the trauma. There might be unseen, residual effects lurking beneath his indifferent, teenage countenance. 

Realizing this, Ellie softened. “Alright…well you know you can. If you change your mind." She brushed back an unruly wisp of blonde hair, and he flicked her hand away.

"Mum!" He groaned, which prompted her to smile because she knew that tone of voice. He was half amused by the gesture, half irritated; the sort of conflicting feelings that came from being in between childhood and manhood.

"Ah Elle," Her Dad grumbled, "leave the boy be." He approached the foot of Tom's bed, squeezing his foot. "How ya been, sonny?"

"Alright Grandad," Tom nodded.

Fred accidentally trod lightly on Ellie's toe, reminding her that they still remained tethered together through their tightly clasped hands. "Fred wanted to come too," Ellie urged, swinging their arms lightly. 

“Hey bud,” Tom turned slightly towards his brother, managing a weak smile.

“Hiiii…” Fred murmured shyly, swaying from side to side.

“Miss me at home?” Tom teased lightly.

Fred bobbed his head, his gaze still fixated down at the floor.

"You're not playing my Xbox are you?"

"Noooo…" Fred immediately flushed a reddish hue.

"It's alright if you are," Tom offered. "Just make sure you beat my high score."

"He's nearly there," Granddad offered with an air of amusement. "He's been playing that thing nonstop since you left. And he's been sleeping in your bed."

"No I haven't!" Fred's head snapped up, his eyes filling with worry. 

From the slight tremble in his hand, coupled with this outburst, Ellie felt a guilty stab right through her heart. She couldn't help but glance down at him and ask, "Have you, Fred?"

The little boy shrugged, his ears now turning a bright red as he looked back down. He slowly started caving inward, clearly embarrassed by this discovery that was not being talked about.

Fortunately, Tom appeared to not mind and decided to change the subject, “What did ye bring in your backpack?”

“Stuff,” Fred mumbled.

“What kind of stuff?”

Ellie began with a soft enthusiasm, “Oh come on Fred. Tell your big brother all the fun stuff we packed. We brought coloring books and crayons and a few of your comic books, yeah Fred? He picked them especially for you.” He looked over at Tom, encouraging him to bolster his younger brother's spirits.

“Want to show me?”

“Ok,” Fred shrugged uncertainly, pulling his multicolored Transformers backpack from his shoulders and slowly began rifling through it.

Ellie watched Tom in the meantime, asking, “Feel ok?”

Tom’s softness was replaced with a tired frustrated sigh, “Mum I’m fine. Stop worrying will ye?”

“Sorry,” She flashed a quick smile, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Bad habit, yeah?”

Fred was soon presenting Tom with a small pile of comic books, to which Tom gestured with his good arm for him to place on the tray in front of him.

“Want to sit up here and read them with me?” Tom suggested, patting the left side of the bed. His brother smiled, almost excitedly as he rounded the bed to climb in beside his brother.

"I'll just make with the paper," David mused to no one in particular, sitting in the corner of the room.

“Careful Fred,” Ellie cautioned. “Sit beside him. Not on his lap.”

Tom winced for a split second when he shifted over to give his brother some room to sit.

Something between pain and love bloomed inside her heart at the sight of them getting on so well. There was a slight knock on the door, and Ellie turned to see Dr. Baum hovering tentatively in the doorway. He caught Ellie’s eye and then jerked his head for her to come outside the room.

“Alright if I go talk with the doctor?” She shot the question at her father, who nodded with no further comment or remark to make.

She folded her arms over her chest, following Dr. Baum as they took a few steps away from the open door of Tom's room.

“As I said earlier Tom did well through the surgery. Based on the last examination I did, I don’t expect any real long-term implications. We’ll keep his arm in a hard cast for about 8 weeks. And do a couple of follow up scans to see if we need to transition to a softer cast at that point. As I mentioned before, he will need to keep off his feet for at least two weeks. I recommend we keep him here until then with some periodic checks on the pelvic fracture. He also made mention to me today of some back pain. That is totally normal given his injuries. Its likely a sprain though, our follow up analysis didn’t show any breaks or fractures in his spine. Once the pelvic injury clears up, we can send him to an outpatient facility where he will go through physical therapy several times a week. And like we discussed, once he regains basic motor skills, we can send him home to you and he should be good as new.”

She nodded, and didn't remark further. It was good to get additional confirmation that Tom would mostly recover entirely. 

“As far as pain medication goes, we’ve been giving him a lot of hard stuff just to help him get through the initial trauma. We’ll work on weaning him off, so he won’t make a habit of it. However, there might be an increase in irritability as a side effect to this.”

She couldn't help but quip, “Well he’s already a surly teenager so wouldn’t be a new thing resulting from the accident really.”

Dr. Baum chuckled at this and nodded his head, “I have a son about his age as well, I know how it goes. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that so far everything is looking good.”

“Thank you,” She beamed at him appreciatively.

“And about your partner…"

She blinked back at this unexpected statement and nearly choked out  _partner?_

"...Alec Hardy?” He clarified.

Oh, yes. That minor technicality the term afforded her.

Recognition lit up across her face but she managed to answer evenly, “Yes.”

“You know he’s out of surgery and into the ICU, right?”

“Yes, his daughter told me as much.”

“I didn’t realize before that you were so closely associated with him. My apologies for misreading the situation. Even though you aren’t married, you still have rights to visit him should you choose to.”

Ellie thought about correcting him and telling him that her half-truth in regard to tossing that word around. But then decided she might not get another chance. Inclining her head, she replied and smiled appreciatively, “Thank you. I should like that very much.”

“I’ll have Nurse Katrina take you to him,” Dr. Baum remarked with finality before turning to walk away.

She watched the doctor's retreating form and felt her insides twist. Finally, she would know the extent of Hardy's injuries. The magnitude of it all made her force out a sharp breath.

For a split second, she thought of going after Dr. Baum, telling him that Alec Hardy was her work partner, her colleague, and that the hospital staff had misinterpreted the term. But that was the part of her who was afraid of losing him entirely. Another part of her, the stronger willed side of her knew that she had to know. She had to see him. So Ellie stilled herself and remain rooted in the hospital corridor, letting it all pass on a technicality. 

* * *

She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected when she entered his hospital room, but Hardy had seen better days, even in the aftermath of his heart attack.

Daisy looked up from her father's bedside, standing with a slight grimace due to the cracked ribs. 

“Unfortunately, there’s only thirty minutes left in visiting hours,” Katrina glanced up at a nearby clock on the wall and frowned sadly. "And we only allow one at a time," She looked between Daisy and Ellie.

Ellie pressed on, her hand resting on Daisy's shoulder, "Can I have a few minutes with your Dad? I won't be long."

She nodded, "Ok."

She exited the narrow room with Katrina, and the sliding door slid shut behind them. Ellie felt she was in an airtight container. The room was dimly lit, the air felt more sterile enclosed in here. There was a tele perched on the opposite wall of the bed, but it was encased in something.

Tubes stuck in various parts of Alec's body. His throat, beneath the thin blankets, and on the back of his hand. Machines crowded him, beeping sporadically to make their presence known. There was very little space for anything other than a single chair beside the bed. Ellie tentatively approached the bed, feeling emotions swirling up inside of her. Her stomach knotted, and she felt something lodge in her throat when she saw how stark white his complexion appeared. His hair had been shorn off entirely, and at first she wondered if she had the right room. Had Daisy not been in there first, she likely wouldn't have recognized him.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she muttered softly, “Hi Hardy.” Her fingers lightly traced the back of one of his hands where a tube was taped against the skin. “It’s Miller." She paused, hearing her heart beating inside her ears, her breathing rasping in between beeps of the machine. "I uh...I can't say I admire your new hair cut in the same way that you did mine," She teased, hoping the minor insult would stir something inside of him.

Perhaps he would croak out a rebuttal. She half hoped he might.  

Glancing down at her fingers dancing across his hand, she pursed her lips, trying again. "They said they purposefully put you in a coma. Way to be overly dramatic again, eh?” Her gaze flickered to his lifeless face. His chest rose and fell mechanically as the machine beside her helped breathe for him. "You best stop this habit of nearly dying on me, ye hear? I may want your job, but at least I wouldn't kill you for it."

Another silence that was sliced intermittently by beeps and the hiss of the machines. 

Losing her confidence, Ellie sighed, sinking down into the arm chair. Her hand gripped his as if she could try to pull him back to consciousness and succeed. “Listen, I don’t want you to worry about Daisy. Beth’s agreed to take care of her. And I’ll be here for a while with her after school each day. We'll make sure she does her work and that she can still see you. Until you get better that is...or whenever Tess finishes her retreat..." She lowered her voice to a near inaudible grumble to add, "...or whatever the hell she’s doing."

Another beat of silence transpired between them. Ellie watched him for a few more seconds, placing both of her hands around his, cradling it as she leaned forward onto his bedside. Somehow, given the circumstances, this felt natural. Touching him after the heart attack whenever he was alive and fully aware, she'd been hesitant then. And of course, she'd also been married. She wasn't that sort of woman. But now, the gesture felt like it was a long time coming. It felt like it fit, especially with what she was about to tell him.  

"Also, I wanted to let you know that Tom’s alright. He will be here for a while and then in an outpatient facility but…he’ll be alright. So don’t worry about any of that, k? Just worry about getting well again. Because so many of us…we need you here, Hardy. We need you alive and well. And..." Her words clogged her throat and she felt her vision blur. Clearing her throat she went on, "...and fuck, you can’t leave me. I can’t be permanently stuck with Russell as a partner.”

Still no response from him. Ellie squeezed his hand one final time, her lips brushing against his fingertips. "I need you," She breathed out in a barely audible whisper.

Feeling a set of eyes bearing into her back, Ellie gently released his hand and saw Daisy watching her. Suddenly self conscious, she gently released his hand and gathered herself. Smoothing out the front of her trousers, she straightened her cardigan, and set her expression to neutral. It was then that something caught her eye from above.

It was the illuminated television screen, the sound turned down so low that you could only hear if you were directly under it. It was the news recap from the weekend. And among the newsreel highlights was the wreckage of Alec's car. 

Ellie gasped unexpectedly, her hand flying to her mouth. She saw the twisted metal, the broken glass, and the horrific glory of the scene for the first time. It dawned on her how precious life was. How easily they could have all died. And how incredibly lucky Daisy and Tom were. But something else struck her as unusual from behind the right shoulder of the reporter. In the far background, in a car lot from across the intersection was a familiar looking red car. It stirred some sense of recognition within her, although she couldn't quite place it.

Then the memory came to her. It was a thought. A phrase spoken out loud.

_The kind of car men drool over._

Ellie couldn't say with complete certainty, but it appeared like the car she'd seen on Billy Russell's computer screen. Frowning and furrowing her brow, Ellie felt a sort of indescribable rage begin to build. But the rage inside of her was laced with a multitude to questions that overrode all of her thoughts. It was as though her mind was spinning faster than the rest of the world. And she had to tear her eyes away from the tele just to stay with two feet firmly on the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to update this so quickly, but here we are! The next couple of chapters are outlined, so there is a chance they will be updated soon. Beyond that...we might have a drought. Just wanted to give everyone a fair warning. Anyway, thank you for your continued support and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_Was Russell there at the time of the accident? Was he a witness? Was he the cause? Why did he happen to be there? He had rushed out of work early that Friday afternoon...why? Or was she imagining things? Was the car on his screen not his, but one he admired? Or was it all just a coincidence that there was a red car near the accident scene?_

Ellie felt like she could lose her mind from all the questions that swirled around inside like a vortex of water that chased its own tail down a drain. She would have to confront him. That would be the only way to make the questions stop. That would be the only way to make sense of everything that had happened in an instant.   

But there was one problem, Billy Russell was not situated at his desk, leaning back casually as he clicked and intermittently typed on his desktop. The sight of his empty chair jarred something inside of Ellie. She felt off balance again. So much anger had been churning inside of her, propelling her forward to this precise moment, and now it screeched to a sudden stop.

Using some of the leftover momentum, Ellie marched into the office of the DSU and shot off the inquiry without warning.

The dark-skinned woman peeled off her rounded spectacles, regarding Ellie with steady brown eyes that emitted a source of calm. Then she casually informed her that Billy Russell, was in fact, gone.

“What do you mean gone?” Ellie echoed, her frustration reverberating off the walls and building upon the already tense air within the room.

“I mean,” DSU Mitchell cocked her head to one side, and leaned back in her seat in a singularly fluid motion, “he scurried out of here two Friday’s ago and hasn’t been seen since.”

Ellie blinked back at her, her mouth gaped in a shocked expression.

Picking up a tube of lippy, DSU Barbara Mitchell unscrewed the lid, twisting the tube to reveal a bright shade of crimson. She continued on in a mild fashion as though it wasn’t altogether unusual or suspicious, “His cell’s been turned off, can’t even get a signal trace on it to find him.”

“Wha-what? Are you serious? He just…up and…”

“Look Ellie, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise,” Mitchell smacked her lips and replaced the lid on the lippy before setting it back atop her desk, just to the left of her keyboard.

Furrowing her brow, Ellie continued stammering, “ _Shouldn’t_ …really? You really think…?”

She gestured for Ellie to have a seat, and then she folded her hands together, watching and waiting for her to settle into the chair opposite her desk. With a disgruntled sigh, Ellie obliged, shooting an annoyed look at her superior.

“Youngsters like Russell…they don’t make Broadchurch their landing pad. You know that as well as I do," DSU Mitchell went on.

“Yes, but even so…” Ellie countered and then stopped as soon as Mitchell arched a questioning brow in her direction.

It was as though Mitchell was asking:  _why do you care so much?_ This unspoken question coupled with a severity in her gaze, prompted Ellie to close her mouth. Clearly this wasn't the time or place to be voicing her opinions on Billy Russell. So she sat back in her seat, awaiting further instruction. 

“Look Ellie…I’m glad you came in to see me this morning," Mitchell shifted the conversation's route. "Even if it was a bit… _brusque_.”

At the emphasis on the word, Ellie felt herself fold inward slightly. She should have thought before allowing her emotions to drive her actions this morning. Flashing a tight smile, she remarked a bit uneasily, “Sorry, ma’am,”

Mitchell waved a hand and remarked, “No need to apologize. It’s something we need more of.”

“Really?” Ellie's tone lighted in question.

“Yes, unapologetic and unflinching honestly is lacking these days," Mitchell went on before pausing to gather her thoughts. "Particularly after some of the higher profile cases we’ve encountered more recently.”

“I see.” Was all Ellie could think of for a reply.

Regarding her evenly, Mitchell stated, “It is especially needed for whomever becomes our next DI.”

Ellie's stomach plummeted at these words. Next DI? The color drained from her face as she thought of Alec Hardy lying lifeless in a hospital bed. He wasn't gone, but he wasn't _here_ either. Her mouth ran dry and she found herself clearing her throat a few times to dislodge the words she wanted to come out.  

“Next DI? But ma’am Alec Hardy...”

“Look Ellie, I know this is hard to hear," Mitchell began defensively. She wasn't unkind, but firm in her delivery. "But we have to think realistically. It’s been weeks and he still hasn’t...there's no guarantees with his prognosis."

Ellie looked down between them as Barbara Mitchell brought to life the thought that weighed heavily on her mind each day. She hadn't dared speak these words out loud for fear of losing her nerve around Daisy. Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, and she willed herself to stay strong and feed belief into those words her DSU let hang between them. Her knuckles blanched and her palms prickled from her nails digging into them. She forced a couple of breaths in and out evenly, steadying herself. 

"The truth of the matter is," Mitchell brought Ellie's mind back to the present, "I can’t manage my position and this one for much longer.”

“Right. Of course.” Ellie nodded automatically.

“The job was slated for you once," She went on before delivering the final blow. "Would you consider it now?”

Her stomach clenched and her jaw dropped open. She shouldn't be surprised really. Even Beth noticed that Ellie would fit the job well. But still, the offer of it given the circumstances just didn't seem right. She couldn't stomach it. Her mind that had been whirling all over the place suddenly, went blank.

“I…”

Gesturing towards her with a steadying, reassuring hand, Mitchell explained, “You have the credentials. You certainly could. It would mean an increase of pay. You could even hand pick your own DS.”

It was then she found her own voice. “There are some trade offs to it all though. More paperwork to complete, longer working hours. And right now...”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle. And while Tom is still in treatment, we can be flexible with your hours."

Ellie took in another breath, not saying anything. She didn't trust her voice to form the right words.

"Just think about it, Ellie. I know you have a lot on your plate right now. But I’d hate to see you not get it this time around.” Mitchell stared at her intently, a warmth slowly spreading across her expression. 

Ellie was certain if anyone would understand how good of an offer this was, it was Mitchell. She had clawed her way to the top of the totem pole, so women like Ellie had more chances. And Ellie had similarly paved the way for all the other DS'. To refuse Mitchell outright felt disrespectful to all of that. To accept felt like she would be betraying a man she deeply cared for.  

Bobbing her head, Ellie stood and remarked neutrally, “Thank you for the consideration, ma’am. I _will_ think about it.

* * *

She was filling out several documents regarding recent arrests for petty crimes whenever DS Rose Winklevoss swept by her desk. "Hey Elle? There’s a man here to see you.” She jerked her head in the direction of the front lobby, a cheeky grin showcasing two dimples.

Taken aback by this revelation, Ellie immediately took mental stock of the men in her life. Aside from Tom, Fred, and her Dad, all of whom Rose knew, none of them would be called "a man." Her stomach immediately plummeted when she thought for a minute it might be Joe. Frowning up at Rose she questioned, “Who-who is it?”

Rose shrugged and then supplied, “He said his name was Marc Thorton.”

“Oh _shit_.” She couldn't help the words from tumbling out and her hands immediately flew up to readjust the headband that was holding back her short curls. 

“Should I...send him away?” Rose wondered with a helpful edge in her voice.

“Uhm no." Ellie managed a quick, reassuring smile. She exhaled, "Where is he?”

“In the lobby," She jerked her thumb behind her before explaining lightly, "I didn’t want to bring him in without asking…”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks Rose." Ellie nodded her head and assured her, "I’ll uh, be out to see him in a moment.”

"Right, have fun. He's a looker," Rose winked at her suggestively, prompting Ellie to roll her eyes and scoff a bit.

Her heart hammered in her chest more rapidly now. Marc Thorton, her previously workout partner turned lover during their days of CID training. Now he was likely a well dressed, well aged Interpol Agent. The thought alone sounded mysterious and sexy. And it was enough for Ellie to begin rifling through her top desk drawer for her compact mirror. She found it wedged between her stapler and a roll of tape.

Popping it open she did a quick once over, inwardly chastising herself for not putting on any concealer. Tom didn't care about the dark circles under her eyes. And Hardy certainly wouldn't notice given his comatose state. Out of her peripheral she saw a black tube of lipstick rolling around in her desk drawer. She opened it up and revealed a dusty rose color. Dabbing a bit on her bottom lip, she smacked them quietly before studying the effect of it in the mirror.    

A moment of hesitation transpired, and Ellie immediately chastised herself. _What was she doing?_ For all she knew Marc Thorton was here on a business matter, and here she was, keeping him waiting as she primped herself unnecessarily. For all she knew, he no longer thought of her in that way. For all she knew, he could be happily married. She took a tissue and wiped at her lips. Snapping the compact shut, she grumbled, “You’re being ridiculous.” 

Ellie stood, smoothed out the front of her pant legs and started towards the lobby. As she strode with her head held high and a clear purpose in mind, Ellie's mind drifted back to the last time they saw one another. 

_Soft light streamed in through the dark purple curtain that barely covered the full width of her bedroom windows. Her legs were tangled between the sheets, hair mussed and cascading across her bare back. Her eyes stung with the heaviness of deep sleep. Her swept towards her side of the bed and was met with emptiness. Squinting through the early hours of morning light, she pushed herself up off the bed._

_The room spun, an after effect of last night's round after round of tequila. And she croaked out sleepily, "Marc?"_

_His tall form appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. She noticed that crooked smile that always made her want to laugh stupidly like a school girl, but before she could he was kneeling beside her bed._

_"Come back to bed," She pouted, mostly from delirium coursed through her._

_He brushed a long, curly tress behind her ear, kissing her temple softly, awakening her body with a pulsing excitement._

_"Can't Elle. You know I can't," He mumbled softly, his nose brushing across her cheek._

_She rolled over onto her back and then tossed aside the bed coverings to reveal her naked form. A coquettish smile danced across her mouth, "Sure about that?" She blinked up at him demurely, and he exhaled sharply, his want for her plainly written across his face._

_"Fuck Elle, I'm gonna miss my plane."_

_She tugged on his arms, and he relented, settling on top of her. "You can..." She muttered in between kisses, "...catch...the next one."_

And he had.

Shaking off the memory that still brought a blush to her cheeks all these years later, she opened the glass door to the lobby and spotted him.

Truthfully, even if he wasn't how she imagined him to be, he was the only man waiting with his back turned towards the glass doors in the lobby. He wore a navy, tailored suit and brown loafers, and when he glanced casually over one shoulder to reveal a pair of thick framed glasses, he nearly took her breath away. 

“Hello Ellie,” He smiled easily, striding gracefully towards her.

“Marc,” She returned, immediately closing her mouth, and managed a twitchy sort of smile as she looked up at his face. Still a good head and a half taller than her; gravity hadn't been cruel to him in that regard. His face was a bit more worn, but it was pleasantly so. Just around his mouth and eyes, to give off the impression that he often laughed and smiled. It was a distinguishable feature that made him all the more attractive. Not to mention that his dark hair had streaks of grey throughout. But it suited him, making his pale blue eyes stand out even more so.  

Yes, Marc Thortan was still ridiculously handsome. And here she stood beside him feeling somewhat inadequate. Her bare face and baggy eyes peering up at him, and she self-consciously folded her arms over her chest, the elbows of her suit jacket tightening. It was worn in comparison to his flashy suit, and she pursed her lips, still wishing she kept the lipstick. It would have given her some kind of advantage. 

“Hello,” He kept staring directly into her eyes, his smile remaining.

A shy smile self-consciously worked its way across her face and she tilted her head back to look him in the eye, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Was all he could think to say back. 

Ellie chuckled nervously, and he returned with a similar sort of laughter.

"Sorry I...it's been a while," He bowed his head, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

"Yeah," She bobbed her head, biting her lower lip as she mentally calculated, "yeah it has. Least...twenty years?" She questioned and then remarked more to herself as confirmation, "Yeah, my god, it has been."

“Yeah time flies," He found her eyes again, but couldn't help himself from silently appraising her just as she assessed him moments earlier. "You uh…you’re hair its…”

“Different,” Ellie touched it a bit self-consciously, grinning in spite of the fact that she should be building up some kind of a defense. God, how she was failing miserably. 

“Yes. But it suits you well. You look…you look _great_.” The tips of his ears turned a rosy hue at gifting her with the compliment and her smile deepened.

She had to look away for a moment to accept it, “Thank you. Uhm…" Clearing her throat and any of the awkward tension with it, she recalled what would likely be the purpose of his visit, "...I’m sorry I forgot about your email…I’ve been a bit tied up.”

“Yeah I uh, I came round two weeks ago. They mentioned there was a family emergency. I hope everything's alright?”

Her heart fluttered again she noticed the concern flooding his face, and then there was a slight pang as she thought of Tom, Daisy, and Hardy. 

“Oh," She glanced away again, nodding in confirmation. "Oh, yeah. Yeah it is now." Then casting him a sidelong look she scrunched her brow and wondered, "You didn’t just leave the papers with the officer taking over the case? I'm not on it any longer.”

“Oh, no I did." His eyes widened and he went on explaining, "Uh, DS...Leitzer? Took them I believe.”

“Yup, that's right. He’s been managing the case.”

That same sheepish grin still splayed across his lips, and he asked softly, his one hand reaching forward to lightly brush his fingers along the sleeve of her jacket. "How are you?”

Ellie tensed a bit, inhaling a sharp breath before reaching up to play with the pendant hanging around her neck, “Uhm…busy.”

His hand wordlessly fell away and he probed kindly, “Your family? Are they...?”

“Fine, thank you," She bobbed her head, feeling a bit unsure as to why their conversation was turning personal. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder she started, "Look Marc, I hate to be rude but, is there something you needed? I have quite a bit going on.” Her brow lifted back at him, waiting for some type of explanation for suddenly showing up.

“Right, of course. I hope you don't think this is... _presumptuous_." He mused, and she snorted a bit while thinking,  _no, not at all._

"I was hoping to ask if you'd…like to…grab a bite sometime?”

His stammering was endearing. But her defenses were already building up now. Why would he just, out of the blue, ask to see her when he established a life elsewhere? When she established a life without him? She couldn't help but feel her hackles rise up. Nobody just took an interest in her. There was always an ulterior motive. Which is what prompted her to blurt out the question in a rather defensive tone, "You came _all the way_ to Broadchurch just to ask me out?"

"Well...not exactly. I'm still working the case so I've been in and out quite a bit," He gestured towards the office before settling his gaze on her. "I just...thought it might be nice to see you _too_." His face reddened a bit and he bit the inside of his cheek as he added tensely, "You can bring Joe along if you like."

At the mention of Joe she felt the hardness solidify in her. Clenching her teeth, she remarked pointedly, "Uhm…Marc I…I really don’t have the time." Her brow lifted and she smiled rather painfully at him. Shrugging she continued on somewhat indifferently, "Sorry. Things are just...too chaotic right now.” She straightened the front of her blazer and refolded her arms in front of her chest.

He took a step forward and tossed out the question with a hopeful edge in his voice, “Too chaotic even for lunch?"

"Its barely ten," She argued, frowning up at him. "Besides I have work." She jerked her head in the direction of the office bull pen behind them. 

"Alright," He looked down, his mood deflating. "You win." He shrugged, "I thought it was worth trying for again. Seeing's as I already made that mistake with you once." He chuckled bitterly, a sardonic smile twitching at his mouth. "I hope things are good for you Elle," He waved half heartedly before retreating towards the bank of elevators. 

Seeing him so dejected by her stirred something up inside of her. She couldn't quite explain what it was. Pity, maybe? Regret? He even told her to invite Joe for Christ's sake, still operating under the assumption that she was happily married and not wanting to disrupt that. And then the words came floating back to her. The ones spoken softly to her on the steps of the precinct when she was convinced that all men were dreadful, that no man could ever be trusted. 

_He is not what men are._

Marc's gaze cast downward as he awkwardly waited for the lift to arrive. She watched him breathing deeply, forcing in air, almost like he had been punched hard in the gut.

Maybe he wasn't the worst thing she automatically assumed. Maybe he was genuine. Maybe just maybe she would never get another shot like this.  

Teeth raking over her bottom lip, she shook her head and then relented.

"Fine!" She called out to him, her hands moving to rest atop her hips. 

Marc pivoted slowly, looking back at her with a hesitantly hopeful look. 

"One coffee," She pointed a finger up at him, almost threatening. "But that's all this is. Nothing like it once was, yeah?"

He bobbed his head, traces of a smile forming, "You still like taking the lead after all these years."

"You bet your arse I do," Ellie quipped, reaching between them to punch the call button for the lift with her thumb. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know, I know I know. This was essentially filler. But I need Marc to exist for reasons. And well he's kind of a hottie in my mind lol.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is hella drawn out. I hope you're ok with it. I can't not be a detailed writer who wants to explore different relationships, even within fanfiction. This is just who I am lol. So those of you waiting for the Ellie/Alec moments, I'm sorry I'm making you wait for them. NEXT CHAPTER THOUGH. More of a focus on Alec/Ellie, I swear. But this fic is kind of like life, yeah? Nothing happens in a linear fashion. Events unfold and overlap one another. So that is what we have going on in the next couple of chapters as I shift POVs. But yes, Alec/Ellie is on the horizon (at least the reunion piece of it).

The afternoon car rides from Broadchurch to Burstock were mostly full of tense quiet. Daisy would pop her earbuds in, her eyes wandering across the landscape as though she were trying to forget she was forced to share the same space as Ellie. 

She wasn’t unkind per se, but she definitely kept polite distance from her.

Ellie didn’t blame her. She suspected it had to do with that brief moment shared between Hardy and her at the hospital. It was only a simple, singular gesture; clasped hands, a tightly pursed mouth offering up a chaste kiss to his cold, fingertips. Still, witnessing something like that with someone who wasn’t her mother probably shocked her a bit.

Just thinking about the brief second brought a blush to Ellie’s cheeks. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it. But in the moment, she was desperate enough to have him back. To have this last person return, and with him, a sense of normalcy. And perhaps, she thought the warmth of her livelihood would somehow transfer to Hardy, and somehow wake him up from the coma.  

 _You truly are idiotic,_ Ellie told herself, snorting out loud as the thought transpired. But then there was a wave of sadness that slapped her in the face as another thought presented itself. _He would call you an idiot if…if he could._

She blinked hard several times and shook away the thought. She couldn’t think about it, the _if_ part of that sentence. _When,_ she forced her mind to say. _When he wakes up, Daisy will tell him, and then he will call you an idiot._

It had been nearly a month since the accident. The doctors had tried bringing him out of the coma a couple of times, both times unsuccessfully due to his weak heart. The prognosis looked bleaker with each passing day. And with each visit to the hospital, it became increasingly harder for Daisy.

Today though, there was Fred to bring some light to their daily hospital car ride. And Ellie cast her eyes up to the rearview mirror, watching as Daisy sat beside Fred, her head bent over the center armrest, where a heroic scene of Marvel action figures was taking place.

After the Hulk crashed into Flash, and Fred gurgled explosive noises to accentuate the damage done, they fell into a moment of quiet.

It was soon punctuated by Daisy’s question, “Who is your favorite super hero?”

“Iron man,” Fred told her, brandishing the plastic figure.

Ellie tore her eyes away from the scene, refocusing her attentions on the road.

She heard Daisy ask curiously, “Oh yeah? Why him?”

“Because he’s made of iron, and nothing can break him,” Fred replied enthusiastically.

Daisy gently corrected, “I think you mean the suits made of iron, Fred.”

“Well yeah, but-but-but he’s only Iron Man when he wears the suit,” Fred reminded her.

“True.”

Ellie called out to the backseat, “You should show Daisy your Tony Stark action figure, Fred.”

“I didn’t bring it.”

“He truly doesn’t have enough of them,” Ellie teased.

“I’ll see it another time then,” Daisy told him with an easy smile. She then called up to the front, “Are we almost there?”

Checking her surroundings, Ellie replied, “About five minutes.”

Daisy inhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the door handle. She closed her eyes and appeared to be holding her breath.

They were approaching the intersection where it happened. It was always a source of anxiety for Daisy. Ellie made note of this the first couple of times, and really tried to exercise extra caution when they passed through it.

Ellie watched the young girl’s entire body tense as the car rolled on. She’d been seeing a psychologist. Not only for the trauma of the crash, but for how to grapple with the fact that her father was in a coma still.

She couldn’t imagine it was easy. An unconscious father, an absent mother. Her exit exams were only a couple weeks away. And then what? What would her future hold? Ellie didn’t even know if she’d applied to other schools. She had no idea what her aspirations for the future might be. She assumed these were conversations that her parents would’ve had with her. A family matter they would discuss together.

And yet, it appeared that Daisy didn’t have much of a family to speak of these days.

It pained Ellie to think about. _How could a mother just abandon her child?_  

Honk! Honk! A blaring honking sound startled Ellie out of her thoughts, and she swerved out of the way of the car approaching from the opposite lane.

A sharp, “watch it!” sound emitted from the backseat followed by frantic breathing.

“Sorry,” Ellie apologized, feeling her insides slowly untwist as the normal roll of the car resumed.  Gripping the wheel firmly beneath her hands, she apologized again, breathing in a terse breath, “I’m sorry, Daisy.”

Daisy’s breathing was jagged and deep, and her body curled up into a tight ball as she leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie felt a pang of guilt, and then she glanced to Fred whose face was alight with fear. “Fred, you ok?” She probed reassuringly, meeting his wide eyes through the mirror.

He bobbed his head mutely, and then began scooping up his action figures from the center armrest.

“Watch the road!” Daisy groaned, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

Ellie glanced ahead of her, and exhaled, “Daisy, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever just...pay...attention,” She grumbled jaggedly in reply.

And just like that, the tension sprung up between them like weeds in early spring. No other attempts at conversation were made for the rest of their journey to the hospital until they arrived.  

“I’ll be back around eight,” Ellie turned around, calling to Daisy as she slammed the door shut.

She heard a stiff, “kay,” and watched as Daisy stalked off, hands in shoved into her jacket pocket, head down.  

“Great,” Ellie sighed heavily before thinking out loud, “another reason for her to hate me.”

“Why does Daisy hate you Mum?” Fred wondered softly.

 _Shit,_ Ellie thought. Glancing back at him through the mirror, she remarked, “Oh she doesn’t darling. Mummy’s just overthinking things.” Pausing she regained her sunny composure and bubbled, “Shall we go visit Fred? I’m sure he’s dying to read another comic with you.”

* * *

“I hate it here,” Tom grumbled shortly after they arrived in his room.

 _Oh great,_ Ellie thought, _teenage angst isn’t short supply today._

He went on whining, “I feel like I’m dying. Everyone else here _is_ dying.”

There was some validity to his words. Most of the residents were elderly. Tom and one another young man, who had been hit by a motorbike, were the only ones under the age of seventy.

“Well you aren’t dying,” Ellie countered, bending over him to place a soft kiss at his forehead and ruffle his hair. “So be grateful for that.”

“Whatever,” Tom flinched away from her touch, not bothering to look at her or Fred who was eagerly trying to climb up on the edge of his bed.

Her heart ached. It must not have been a good day for him. “Hard day, darling?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged before crying out as Fred painfully rammed into his broken arm, “Ow! Fred!”

“Tom!’” Ellie exclaimed with a frown before she assured, “He doesn’t understand.”

The sullen teen rolled his eyes and grumbled something incoherently.

“Fred,” Ellie reached across the bed, and readjusted him to sit closer to Tom’s legs. “Remember we said we needed to be a bit gentle with Tom’s arm?”

“Sorry Mum,” He muttered with a downcast gaze.

“It’s alright,” She kissed the top of his head.

“Mum!” Tom whined again, gesturing towards the television mounted on the wall, and then making a ‘get out of the way,’ gesture towards her.

“Oh sorry,” She glanced at the screen in between digging in Fred’s backpack for some comics, “Big game?”

“Yeah.”

She placed the comic books on the beside tray that hovered by Tom’s feet. Fred began shifting through them before deciding on one and picking it up.

“Tom…” He began a bit hesitantly.

Tom’s eyes were glued to the tele screen so he couldn’t respond.

Sensing this, Fred waved the comic book in front of him and continued to repeat, “Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom.”

“Oh my god Fred! What?!” Tom groaned exasperatedly.

He cowered a bit from the harshness of Tom’s tone before asking shyly, “Can we read Iron Man?”

“Later, I’m watching the game now,” He pointed at the tele, moving his focus once more.

Lowering his head, Fred replied softly, “Kay.”

Ellie was still rifling through the backpack looking for something else to occupy Fred while the game took place, and she called out to try and bolster his sinking disappointment.

“Fred,” He turned to look up at her, a painful sadness evident in his eyes, “Fred, why don’t we color a picture that we can hang in Tom’s room? Just until the game’s finished, yeah?”

Tom scoffed at this, which earned him a hard look from Ellie. She set down the coloring books and crayons with more force than necessary and swiftly added, “And Tom, you can color one for Fred to hang in his room.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and then rolled his eyes to make his displeasure known.

But she had dealt with too much today. Tom’s mood and attitude seemed petty compared to what Daisy was dealing with. She would not have him turning into a swaggery, little shit.

Fred tentatively reached for the crayons and bringing a book in his lap set to colouring a picture. Ellie sank down in the armchair beside Tom’s bed and pretended to watch the game on the television.       

Her phone buzzed suddenly, stealing her attention away from the tele. She couldn’t help but smile a bit as she read the name on the screen.

_Coffee was nice yesterday._

Twisting the smile from her lips, Ellie began typing back a response and then deleted half of it only to begin again: _Yes, it was quite brilliant. And inexpensive._

Satisfied with her evasive reply, she hit send.

A few seconds later, she received another message. _I meant the company more so than the cuppa. But it was good coffee too._

She smirked and keyed out: _Thin ice, Marc._

_I always fancied ice skating._

She snorted at this and rolled her eyes. _Aren’t there any other eligible ladies to bother in Lyon?_

_Who says I’m not bothering them too?_

This filled her with a quick flash of irritation, and she took in a steadying breath. He was just trying to get a rise out of her. It was working, but she wouldn’t let him know that.

“Who are you texting?” Tom asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“A colleague,” She replied flippantly, closing out the conversation and locking her phone. “Game over yet?”

“Half time.”

“Good…you can read the comic with Fred. We likely can’t stay for the rest of the game.”

“Course not," He sighed irritably.

“Alright,” Ellie rose to her feet, feeling her restraint slipping away entirely. “I’ve just had enough of you and your shit attitude today. Ever since we arrived…”

“No one asked you to come, you know!” Tom snapped.

Ellie’s face tensed with anger, and she grinded her teeth to keep herself from losing all control. “You know what Tom. You could have it so much worse than you do. You could have parent who’s in a coma and a parent who doesn’t _give a shit_ _about you_.”

She paused for a split second to let that sink in before continuing on in her rant.

“But you don’t. You have a mother who loves you and who _shows up here every single day_! I come here after work, after being so dead tired that I can barely think! Fred asks to come everyday to see you because he loves you and misses you at home! I don’t know why he cares so much because you’re such an arsehole to him! But he does! We are the only two people who care enough to show up every day. For you. The least you can do is be a decent person to us!”

He looked away from her, frustration in his eyes. She watched his cheeks burn with shame as his hard expression slowly crumbled.

“Come on Fred,” Ellie began gathering up his belongings, shoving them inside of his backpack. “We’re going home,” She decided firmly.

“But we didn’t get to read Iron Man…” Fred blubbered softly.

 “I’m sorry darling,” Ellie went to him, helping him slip on his pack. She glowered over at Tom, “Your brother doesn’t want to read with you today.” Turning back to Fred she managed a hopeful smile, “But we can with Granddad whenever we get home.”

 Fred sniffled, and nodded his head solemnly.

 “Goodnight Tom,” She asserted, slipping her hand in Fred’s and adjusting the strap of her bag on the opposite shoulder.

 They made it to the door before Tom whimpered out, “Mum?”

 She paused in her tracks, feeling her strong resolve begin to crumble.

 “Mum…I’m sorry,” She could hear the tears welling up in his words. They were like a knife straight to her heart.

 Letting out a breath of frustration, Ellie turned back towards him. He was looking down in his lap, his shoulders trembling with the weight of his emotions.

Instinctively, she led Fred back to the bed. In one swift motion, she muttered hard, “Come here,” before clasping the back of his head and drawing it into her chest. She felt his good arm snake around her back, returning the embrace. Swallowing back the lump in her throat she muttered, “I love you, you teenage git.”

She could hear between his breathy sobs, him muttering, “I love you too.”

Sometimes it needed to be heard just as much as it need to be said. In that moment, everything else pealed away from them. They were almost like a "normal" family; one that didn't know tragedy or trauma. And as they clung to one another, comforting each other and basking in the unwavering love they shared, they remained ignorant of the buzzing behind Ellie's phone and what it would mean.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I apologize for any typos (call them out if you see any). I didn't proof this, but just wanted to get this uploaded. Thanks all for reading and sending your thoughts my way, it is much appreciated!


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